The Charlotte News
Saturday, February 1, 1958
FOUR EDITORIALS
Site Ed. Note: The front page
reports from Cape Canaveral, Fla., that the first U.S. satellite had
been launched
Data on the satellite is provided separately.
Alton Blakeslee, Associated Press science reporter, indicates that Explorer was talking continuously in code about cosmic rays, meteorites, and temperatures. Telemetering had long been done with rockets which rose to an altitude of between 50 and 200 miles and then returned to earth. Instruments recorded information, coded it and broadcast that information in code. Ground stations recorded the signals on magnetic tape and then translated the coded language. In a sense, the automobile gas gauge could be considered a telemetering device, with the needle telling the operator how much gas there was in the tank.
In Winston-Salem, N.C., a radio ham operator reported early this date that he had heard the "purring" signal from Explorer at a frequency of 108.03 megacycles. Tune in and you might hear it, too.
Julian Scheer of The News indicates that Charlotte moon watchers were being told to man their stations, as Explorer might be seen over Charlotte at twilight. Members of the Operation Moonwatch team had been asked to report to the Mint Museum tracking station in the late afternoon and that sometime after that, weather permitting, monoculars might pick up the satellite. It would not be visible to the naked eye on its first pass over Charlotte, but the last stage of the Jupiter-C rocket might be. The satellite would not be as bright as Russia's second Sputnik, but experts said the rocket stage should be somewhat brighter and might possibly be seen without instruments. The satellite might be seen after sundown and estimates were that the satellite would be over the Charlotte area from that time up until about 7:30. It would be traveling on a path from west to east and the weather man said the twilight should be clear, with some scattered clouds at around 4,000 feet, but likely dissipating after sundown. Odds were about 50-50 for an instrument spotting at best, but the Smithsonian Astrophysical Observatory at Cambridge, Mass., wired its request for a tracking attempt this date. The local group reported directly to Cambridge.
In Cairo, Egypt and Syria had merged into one Arab state this date, with a joint proclamation having been signed by Presidents Gamal Abdel Nasser of Egypt and Shukri Kuwalty of Syria. The two Presidents signed the document amid wild cheering from an Egyptian crowd assembled outside the old Presidential Palace. The new state would have one flag, one cabinet, one parliament and one army. Premier Nasser was expected to become President and Cairo, the capital. It united about 28 million Arabs in one state, its land areas being separated by 150 miles of territory in which lay the states of Israel and Jordan. Egypt's population was more than 23 million and its land mass was far greater than that of Syria. Leaders of both countries already were urging other Arab countries to join the union to form one great Arab-speaking nation covering the Middle East. Countries which would be eligible for membership were Jordan, Iraq, Lebanon, Saudi Arabia, Yemen, Sudan, Libya, Tunisia, Morocco, Algeria and the sheikdoms of the Arabian Peninsula.
In New Orleans, four men had died early this date when an Humble Oil Co. helicopter had crashed into rough waters of the Gulf of Mexico two miles south of Grande Isle, La. Seven other persons had been rescued.
In St. Louis, the city was recovering after a snowstorm which had lasted for 11 hours, paralyzing traffic and marooning hundreds in factories and schools.
In Lincoln, Neb., "pint-sized" killer Charles Starkweather, 19, and his 14-year old girlfriend, Caril Fugate, were being housed in separate institutions this date while authorities weighed their respective roles in the series of 11 murders, seven of which had occurred in Lincoln, three in nearby Bennet, and one near Douglas, Wyo., where the pair had been captured after Caril had voluntarily turned herself in and Charles, after leading police officers on a car chase, eventually stopped when struck on the ear by a flying piece of glass from a bullet, apparently thinking that he had been shot, being a "yellow, little S.O.B.", as the sheriff had put it after he was captured on Wednesday.
On the editorial page, "Those Caissons Go Thrusting Along" tells of the first U.S. satellite being in orbit, thanks in no small part to the "outmoded" and neglected organization, the Army. Connected firmly to Explorer, the country's hopes and morale were being held high for the moment.
For the present, the U.S. had only become second to the Russians, and Explorer was a tiny thing compared to Sputnik II. The Jupiter-C rocket which had launched it into space might have had less thrust and power than the Soviet rockets. Moreover, the Soviets might be preparing at present for an attempt to make an even more spectacular showing with yet another satellite, and might succeed.
Comparisons would be inevitable but this was not the day for them, rather being a day for rejoicing and gratitude to the Army, the scientists and technicians who had launched the satellite into orbit. It concludes that the race for equality in space had not ended, but, at least, it had finally begun.
"Sign Ban Will Boost Midtown's Health" indicates that the City Council's midtown ban on overhanging signs was a bold but necessary move to give Charlotte a new look of ordered elegance. There were objections from some merchants, but in time, it suggests, they would be enjoying the benefits of doing business in a more attractive shopping area. "A jungle of signs gives midtown an appearance of formless confusion. The effectiveness of the signs themselves is lost in the neon wilderness."
It concludes that the sign ban would help alleviate the problem, and if accompanied by other equally progressive measures, the midtown area could be preserved as the healthy heart of a great trading metropolis. Good luck with that…
"There's Satisfaction in the Sandbox Set" suggests that the satisfaction from the younger set might have been traceable to reports that Charlotte's six-week summer kindergarten program would be continued in 1958. The Charlotte council of the PTA had agreed to assume responsibility for the educational project and was therefore fully deserving of praise from the sandbox set and parents alike.
There was even a good possibility that more schools than ever would have kindergartens during the coming summer, a welcome prospect since across the nation, leading educators were coming to regard kindergarten as essential. Public kindergartens were already in operation in cities in 36 states.
Credit was due the American Association of University Women for initiating the kindergarten project in Charlotte and carrying it on for three years. The PTA hoped to broaden the program's scope while at the same time broadening public understanding and support of it.
There had been a time when the PTA was little more than a ladies aid society organized to buy curtains for the school auditorium or Venetian blinds for the principal's office, but that time had passed.
The project would be administered in cooperation with public school officials. Charlotte had a good school system but kindergarten helped the child develop the kind of listening, working and oral habits which would equip him or her with what the experts called "school-readiness". It finds it a worthy project and one that deserved commendation and support.
You can come talk to us a year from now about it. Nap time, play time, throw towel on the floor, nap time, play time, role play off the tv, big waste of time. We already knew how to nap and play and back up Mr. Dillon in the shootouts. Let's get on with it. Bring out the encyclopedia.
"'More to Science than Missiles'" tells of Dr. Irvine Page, famed Cleveland heart specialist, having addressed the Charlotte-Mecklenburg Heart Association luncheon during the week, and expressed concern about the astounding rebirth of interest in scientific research since the launch of the first Sputnik on October 4. He expressed a well-founded fear that the interest was restricted primarily to science as a producer of weapons of destruction. He said: "There is more to science than missiles."
The piece agrees but indicates that from the debates in Congress, one would never so guess. The scientist had become a hero overnight and was suddenly looked on as a paragon of rational virtue, provided he could produce a bigger and better rocket than the Russians and with a bigger and better nuclear warhead. But that narrowly defined view of the worth of scientific research was as distorted and dangerous as the old McCarthyite nonsense about the egghead being by nature a villain.
It finds it correct that scientific research ought be encouraged, but that it should be encouraged in its broadest sense, availing the public of the blessings of science as well as the bombs.
It suggests that Dr. Page might have said that there was more to life than death.
Truthful James, writing in the Monroe County (Wisc.) Democrat, in a piece titled "By the Light of a Kerosene Lantern", says that he could remember when everyone had kerosene lanterns and they were used for everything. In particular in winter, when the sun did not rise until between seven and eight and set at around 4:30, people had to have lanterns.
The farm wife knew that the lantern was a necessity and saw that the tank of it was filled at all times, that the wick was trimmed and that the glass globe was bright and shiny. The lantern was as much of a necessity as the milk pail or the farmer's arctics. The wife hated the lantern because the tank smelled of kerosene and often leaked. It was a fire hazard in the house and also would spoil every bit of food it came near.
But with the lantern, one could go to the barn, the hen house or any other building. The farmer usually hung it on a nail while he was milking the cow, but sometimes, to see better, he would set it on the floor. Then the cow would kick it over and the barn would catch fire.
When the farmer wanted to go somewhere at night, he would hang the lantern on the end of the tongue of the wagon or bobsled to light the way. If the person did not need it on the end of the tongue, it was kept covered up under the fur robe to keep the wife's feet warm.
Once, a hired man had asked his employer whether he might use the lantern to go courting, to which the farmer had said that he never used the lantern when he went courting. "Well, maybe not," said the hired man, "but look what you got!"
Drew Pearson discusses Robert Young, head of the New York Central Railroad, who had committed suicide recently in Palm Beach. On one other occasion, a relative had wrested a revolver from his hands. The reasons for his depression were that he had hoped to make the New York Central prosper and was not succeeding, that his Allegheny Corp. held substantial loans for a big real estate firm in New York which was shaky, and that his assets were locked into the Allegheny Corp. by a three-year old Supreme Court suit brought by one stockholder. Ironically, the latter case had held in Mr. Young's favor just two days after he shot himself.
The most humiliating fact was that he had to sell 100,000 shares of New York Central stock, leaving him only 1,200 shares. He had been quite upset with the previous Central management for not owning stock in its own company and now he was placed in the same position. The reason why was that the Allegheny stock in New York Central was frozen, its million shares not capable of being sold because of the Supreme Court suit, resulting in a loss of ten million dollars. Central stock was plummeting from a high of $50 down to $16 per share, during which Allegheny could not sell but also during which Mr. Young had to have money to cover his margins. That was why he had mortgaged his Newport, R.I., home and tried to sell his Palm Beach house, and had cashed in 1,000 shares of Central stock.
When Mr. Young had taken over the New York Central, he had promised a dividend of eight dollars per share. In December, his board paid no dividend and he saw no light ahead. The Administration which he had helped to put into office had helped the highways, but had done nothing for the railroads and he considered his life's work finished.
Mr. Pearson notes that the Duke and Duchess of Windsor had been planning to visit him the following week.
The Government was now so obsessed regarding security that it was even censoring the Henry Morganthau diary, the former Secretary of the Treasury under FDR. He had given his diary to the National Archives for use by historians, but the State, Defense and Treasury Departments had classified it as "secret".
Secretary of the Navy Thomas Gates was chafing at the inaction and indecision in the Pentagon and was talking about returning to his home in Philadelphia. Mr. Pearson indicates that he might deny it publicly, but privately he was caught in a morass and could not get anyone to say yes or no on basic decisions, had to work 12 hours per day and had not played golf once since the prior September, whereas the President had played much more frequently.
House Speaker Sam Rayburn had put the kibosh on the hopes of a Chicago catering firm to start a fancy public restaurant and banquet hall in the west side of the Capitol. Senator Everett Dirksen of Illinois was backing the plan. Tourist groups, visiting firemen, and chambers of commerce were to hold banquets in the proposed dining room and then could write home that they had eaten under the same roof with the Congress. But the Speaker had nixed the whole plan.
He indicates that it was an ironic twist of diplomatic fate that the outgoing Soviet Ambassador, Georgi Zaroubin, who had arrived in Washington under a cloud, had stayed to negotiate the first people-to-people exchange with Russia. He had been in charge of the Soviet Embassy in Canada when the code clerk had walked out with cables proving that military members of the Embassy were stealing atomic secrets. He had gotten to know the U.S. and seemed to like the American people. There were even rumors that he was being recalled because he was too friendly, though the rumors could not be substantiated.
John Jamison of The News reports at length on the background of the the plans for the proposed County office building, temporarily placed on hold. You may read it if you have a special interest in the project.
A letter writer from Clinton, S.C., says that a dog and a cat had eaten each other up, which was what would happen to the U.S. and Russia.
A letter from the chairman of the
board of WSOC Broadcasting Co. in Charlotte commends the editorial on
pay television in the January 28 edition, finds pay television the
effort of certain interests to capitalize on the public's right to
use of the airwaves
Framed Edition
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