by Dora Hepner Moitoret
A dull grey mist, and a blindness
Of tears, of doubt and despair;
A tingling of warmth and a kindness
A thrill through the tear-damp air;
A ray of light, and a brightness
Comes stealing back to my soul;
A radiant burst and a whiteness –
And I am renewed and whole.
I Lay Awake
by Dora Hepner Moitoret
I lay awake, though I should have slept,
For the rain-wind blew, and the wild rain swept
Over my roof and adown the wall,
Wild rain, night-dark over all.
I lay awake till the storm passed by
And I heard no more the rain-wind’s cry,
Only the drip of garden trees
Shedding drops in a passing breeze.
The calm of night when the storm was gone
Seemed like the hush preceding dawn.
Into my soul its still peace crept;
I felt its touch; I turned, and slept.
I Am a Stooge
by Judson A. Compton
As stooges go, so have I gone. For I, along with a few others, have become a stooge on the ‘Monarch of the College Dailies,’ the Daily Californian. Not until now have I learned the real meaning of ‘stooge.’ Before, this antimated human meant only some fool who didn’t know better. Now it is a real human doing real work for real pleasure. In short, it is something really real. Or is my language becoming mechanical?
But, you may ask, exactly what does a stooge do? For the following words, I have had definite practical experience. (References given on demand):
I am a normal human being until a certain word is spoken, shouted, or even yelled. Then I become mechanical, doing whatever my masters dictate. So, when “Frosh!” is called, I automatically move towards the voice. And any number of things may follow:
“Type this story.”
“Take this copy to the lower office.” This only means to go to the printers – a mere seven or eight blocks.
“Go buy a package of gum.”
“Get a Call-Bulletin.” Note to Mr. Moitoret: Sometimes it’s a Tribune.
“I want a package of matches.”
“Get me an ‘O. and S.’” This is a catalog of all the officers and students. It seems that there is only one copy on the campus when one is called for.
“Find today’s Cal.”
And so it goes. From 3 to 6 o’clock one afternoon a week; from 7 to 11, 12, 1, or even 2 o’clock one night a week.
And upper classmen are now playing with the idea of having poor (in more than one sense of the word) freshmen buy sandwiches, coffee, and doughnuts.
But there is one consolation – in three or four years perhaps I shall have a stooge. Yes – perhaps.
Meet Mr. Suhre
by Victor A. Moitoret
“The man who looked as if he could never be sad” – that is how I would describe Ed Suhre, the delegate from St. Louis, Missouri. Always ready with a smile and a good word for everyone, Mr. Suhre’s sense of humor is one of the main points of his pleasing personality. In fact, we might infer that this good-naturedness comes naturally with Mr. Suhre, for in French, the word ‘souri’ is the past tense of the verb ‘to smile.’
To those of you who were so unfortunate as to not have met Mr. Suhre, let me introduce a man you will all enjoy meetings. Rather short, a youngish looking man, in spite of his gray hair, bright eyes that always seem to be twinkling at you, and a mouth that seems curved in a perpetual smile set in the middle of a broad, honest face. That’s as much as I can say about the man’s appearance.
As for his actions, he has a rather quiet way of speaking, quiet, and yet loud enough to let people know that he is saying something. Capable looking, Mr. Suhre is always there to see the right thing done. Energetic, ready to work, he gave of his time and experience to great advantage while serving on the Proxy Committee during the Oakland convention, where I met this gentleman for the first time.
Always standing for fair play and honest policies, Mr. Suhre is, indeed, a great asset to amateur journalism and a man that everyone is proud to know as a friend.
I hope that I have been able to make you actually see Ed Suhre in your mind’s eye, so to speak. If I have failed, then there is the convention next July at Grand Rapids which is sure to attract him and there you fill find the same pleasing personality that I found last year at Oakland.
Meet Mr. Suhre – 1936 Version
True to our prediction on page three of this issue, Ed Suhre did show up at the Grand Rapids convention, and, due to the tardiness of this number, we are able to add a few notes and bring our sketch up to date.
Again at G. R. I found old time amateurs expressing the opinion that “it just wouldn’t be a convention without Suhre,” and I am inclined to believe that they were right. Not a great deal was heard from the St. Lousian on the convention floor, but not so on the proxy committee. Suhre was chairman, of course, and again his experience saved hours of work on the part of the committee members, which this time included yours truly.
In spite of the fact that Suhre suggested changing the proxy results, in spite of the fact that he was labeled “Louse” when he refused to allow me to divulge the proxy returns to my fellow workers on the Wolverine staff, in spite of anything said to the contrary, there is not a member in the NAPA who does not really like Ed Suhre personally. Shall we condemn a man because he merely suggests changing the proxy returns, when he has the best interests of the association at heart? This writer is willing to wager that far worse political maneuvers have not only been suggested, but carried out by some of our most beloved “oldsters” of today. (“Yeah – like Noel in the United,” puts in Robie Macauley)
Suhre showed his ingenuity when he turned the epithet “louse” from a title of scorn to one of distinction when he organized the “type lice” and put on a floor show at the convention.
On my trip home from G. R., via Detroit, Cleveland, and Louisville, I had the opportunity of seeing Suhre in St. Louis. He immediately prevailed upon me to extend my stay to a whole day, where I had planned but an hour and a half. Then he spent that whole day, and evening too, showing me his city. And I am certain that any other visiting amateur would receive the same hospitality.
“Suhre’s a louse,” but – “Boston and Suhre in ‘37!”
Pages one and four hand-set in ten and eight point respectively, Caslon Old Style. Inside pages set in eight point Ideal News on an Intertype.
Final impressions made on September 9, 1936.
Edited and printed occasionally by –
Victor A. Moitoret, NAPA and PCAEA