xt7pnv999228 https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7pnv999228/data/mets.xml The Kentucky Kernel Kentucky -- Lexington The Kentucky Kernel 1976-03-23 Earlier Titles: Idea of University of Kentucky, The State College Cadet newspapers  English   Contact the Special Collections Research Center for information regarding rights and use of this collection. The Kentucky Kernel  The Kentucky Kernel, March 23, 1976 text The Kentucky Kernel, March 23, 1976 1976 1976-03-23 2020 true xt7pnv999228 section xt7pnv999228 L.\'\ll No. 134
Maitl123.1976

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KENTUCKY

an independent student ne

erriel

University of Kentucky
Lexington, Kentucky

 

F

blast.

Writer Tom

 

Christy Porter visited the scene.

The starting point

It was at this small office that 23 miners
began their careers at Scotia Mine near
Oven r'orlzin Eastern Kentucky. On March
9, an explosion claimed the lives of 15 men.
and two days later eight miners and three

federal mine inspectors died in a second

Houch and photographer

Their

k impressions appear on page: 6 and 7.

 

 

Organizations analyze bleak iob outlook for PhD's

By SAM BYASSEE
Kernel Staff Writer

Once almost assured of a 'job upon
graduation, new PhD‘s in the humanities
now face a very uncertain future.

The situation is “terribly discouraging“
according to Dr. Ronald Bruzina, acting
chairman of the philosophy department.

"No matter how you cut it up it doesn't
look rosy." Bruzina said. “We listed one
assistant professor position in ‘Jobs in
Philosophy,’ an official publication of the
American Philosophical Assiciation.
tAPAt and received over 300 replies.“

The situation is equally bad in other
disciplines “In recent years at the
Modem Language Association meeting
tMLA i.” said English department
chairman Dr. Joseph Bryant, “job ap
plica nts have staged demonstrations over
the scarcity of available positions.

“The problem is still there,” Bryant
said, but the job seekers now seem more

resigned to the fact that there is nothing
they can do."

The cause of the problem, Bryant said,
“is all those students who began entering

college in the late 50’s and early 60's., We
needed someoneto teach these people, and
departments greatly expended their
graduate programs on the assumption
that this trend (of more students entering
college) would continue.

“Even after enrollments began to level
off. departments found they could not cut
back their graduate programs because
they needed someone to teach their fresh-
man courses, and they could not afford to
replace graduate students with assistant
professors,“ he said.

Bryant also cited the Vietnamese war as
an influence in producing many of the now
unemployed l’hD's. “Many students
decided that they would rather stay in
school and get a graduate degree than go
over and fight in Vietnam," he said.

According to Bruzina, a cutback in
federal and state funding to higher
education has also contributed to the
problem.

"We cannot afford to hire PhD‘s," he
said “We have been forced to fill many of
our vaca ncies with cheaper, less-qualified,
part-time personnel."

No relief is in sight. The Higher
Education Research Institute tllEltl), a
non-profit organization based in Los
Angeles, reports that new faculty
openings. declining from an average of
30,000 in the 1960‘s. are expected to be
somewhere between 5,000 and 10,000 by the
film's.

ln addition, the HEltl predicts that the
traditional 18-10—21 age group, after
growing modestly until 1980, will decline
about 25 percent in the fifteen years
following. Educators expect a 30 percent
drop in college enrollment by 1990.

(‘iting these statistics as evidence that

fewer academic positions will be available

in the for'seeable future, the HEltl has
begun a major study designed to uncover
alternative career opportunities for
humanities PhD’s.

“Anticipating that the humanities
disciplines will face the most severe ad-
iustment problem in the future we intend
to undertake this study,” an HER] release
leBS.

The HER] study will survey five

humanities departments in forty graduate -

schools across the nation, including UK.

According to Dr. Donald Ringe, UK‘s
liason with the HEltl, questionnaires were
distributed earlier in the year to graduate
students in the English, history,
philosophy, Spanish and French depart-
ments. 'f he completed questionnaires,
along with information on former
graduate students who are throught to be
non-academically employed, were for-
warded to the institute.

After analyzing all the information
received from the participating in-
stitutions, the HEltl will issue reports in
five related areas.

The reports will evaluate the character
and motivation of‘graduate students in the
humanitits, the academic job prospects
for new humanities PhD's, the job ex-
periences d' humanities PhD‘s outside
academia, prospects for developing
alternative careers and any implications
for future university decisions about ad-
missions, scholarships and curricula in
graduate programs. ‘

The HER! project is scheduled for

completion by the fall of 1977.
continued on page 12

 

Government
unresponsive

to request for

rape task force

By JO ANN WHITE
Kernel Staff Writer
After an hour-long meeting last week
with the Fayette County commissioner of
public safety, Lexington Rape Crisis
Center Director Pat Elam came to the
conclusion that unless sufficient com-
munity pressure is brought to bear against
urban county government officials, “they
are not going to regard a local rape task
force as a serious issue.
Elam spawned the idea of, and is

pressing for, city and statewide task forces g

on rape.

Elam said state officials received her
proposal with similar indifference.
‘Although officials of the state did express
concern and sympathy and agreed that
something should be done, there was little
attempt on their part to exert any kind of
leadership' in terms of getting the program
unda- way," she said.

“I have repeatedly asked for a statewide

tadr force, and they just keep saying they
will look into it,” she added.

Elam said last week’s meeting was the
first step she has taken' in trying to involve
metro government in the establishment of
the local task force In order to qualify for
a state crime commission grant, she must
procure matching funds from local
government.

Such a grant wouki enable the proposed 1

task force to develop an innovative
program in the handling of rape cases and
to increase the number of options open to

victim. she said.
Elam said she proposed state and city

task force because no .comprehensive
plan of medical and legal action exits for
the rape victim.

“A major function of the task force
wouki be community education," she said.
“We have to realise that this crime is a
serious problem, and decide how we are
going to deal with it.”

Before the 1976 General Assembly
Session ended last week, Elam and her
colleagis saw one of their goals realized.
The legislators passed House Bill 143,
known as the rape shield law, and it will
become law within 20 days.

The law will prohibit the introduction of
evidence about a rape victim’s prior
conduct in a trial'unless it has first been
approved as pertinent by the judge.

“There would not have been any

~ presume for legislation if it hadn’t been for

the efforts (1 women all over the state and
the Lex’mgton and Louisville rape crisis
center, ” she said.

“I cannot understand why the health of
the women of this state should be con:
sidered a controversial issue,” she said,
“but is obviously regarded as such by
government officlak.

“And as with all controversial issues,"
she added, “they are hoping it will just go
away."

 

   

   
  
  
  
  
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
  
 
    
   
     
     
    
   
     
    
  
    
     
        
   
   
     
   
   
    
     
    
  
  
   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
   
 
  
  
   
 

 

 

 
 
    

 

editorials

mammmmmmmmmmm Pup-aha,
mniumimaummwmmmmwuw
mmmmammmmimmm

 

Editorials do not represent the opinions of the University.

Bruce \l‘inges
Editor-in~Chief

(i inny Edwards

Managing Editor

Susan Jones
Editorial Page Editor

John \t'mn Miller
Associate Editor

 

 

 

 

Kernel, there is no editorial today.

 

(Editor’s note: Because of the number of letters and commentaries received by the
All' letters to the editor and Spectrum com-
mentaries should be typed, double-spaced and signed, including classification, major
and phonenumber. Because of space limitations, letters should be no longer than 250
words and Spectrum commentaries no longer than 750 words.)

 

 

we; a“
.‘A

{rTlr ’u "T

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W M ....

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‘CAN nu HELP MR. CART‘:R,DOC.?— ms SMiLE IS STUCK...’

    

 

 

 

Truth

Editor;
in Wayne Davis’ letter ("Ongoing,“
Kernel, March 8) he states "...Iife is a

continuim, with no point recognizable
as the beginning except perhaps for the
origin of life itself some three billion
years ago.”

One needs only to make a few sub»
stitutions in Davis' sentence toarrive at
an equal biological truth. "The
biological (genetic) identity of the
individual human being is a continuum,
with no point recognizable as the
beg inningexcept (there is no need for a
“perhaps” here) for the origin of the
biological identity of that individual
human being at the moment of con-
ception.“ Davis’ statement can be valid
only if the concept of the. individual
human being is invalid. But biology as a
field of knowledge would collapse if it
did not affirm the validity of both
concepts ~—theunity ofall lifeon the one
hand and the individuality of lives

Letters

 

within this unity on the other.
it is hard not to believe that Davis has

distorted the truth by omitting essential
elements of it. it would be sad it
biologists who are in a position to shed
light on the abortion i55ue obstruct part
of this light in order to serve their own
political ends.

John M. Berry
Linguistics sophomore

Hall fan

Ed ior:

We iust wanted to make it clear that
not al the people here at UK are down
on Coach Joe B. Hall and our basketball
team. Some of us appreciate the effort
of Coach Hall and his team, and feel
they should know it.

Danna Phillips

Computer Science sophomore
» Joan Am yx

Pre. Pharmacy sophomore

 

 

 

.By Roy Dickinson

Everyone who is anyone, it seems, is
writing a book these days about Patty
Hearst and the SLA. Stephen Weed
recently published his account of the
affair entitled "My Search for Patty
Hearst”~~and it isalready a best seller.

Less noticed is Fred Soltysik’s "In
Search of a Sister," the tale of
Soltysi k’s ta iling attempts to rescue his
revolutionary sister from the clutches
of the SLA. Rumors have it that sur»
viving relatives of all the other dead
SLA members have books in the works,
too. ”My Search for Cinque,“ for in-

 

stance, is reportedly coming out this
spring.
If not actually writing books,

everyone is at least busy turning out
articles on this subiect—people
everywhere exploiting poor Patty for
the once-in-a-lifetime chance to display
their heretofore undiscovered literary
prowess. Why, it‘s gotten to the point
wherenoself-respecting writer can feel
secure if he hasn’t added his two cents
worth‘ to all the discussion. Well, by
God, I may be a man of high moral
standards, but I’m not going to be left-
out of this thing. I’ve done my share of
searching for Patty Hearst, too, and
it’s high time the story was told.

Sue and i had the opportunity last
summer to travel across the country,
and as we traveled we kept our eyes
open for Patty. She was out there
somewhere, we knew. It was only a

' matter of time before our paths
crossed. Indeed, we had been on the
mad for only three weeks when we first
spied the fugitive heiress. We were in
Yellowstone National Park, waiting in
a crowd of about 500,000 people for the
promised eruption of Old Faithful
geyser. Patty Hearst was in that
crowd, too.

Old Faithful is a popular spot because
you can drive right up to it and it’s
terribly photogenic, too. But what
people like most about it is that the
damn thing is so predictable. The
Combine has it set up so that it rings a

 

fire bell and shoots off six train whistles
five minutes before it goes off. Gives
the tourists plenty of time to leave the
snack shops and curio shops and still
get a good seat before she blows.

And it’s so damn photogenic.

The way the old geyser works is like
this. Right beforeshe comes (the whole
affair is terribly sexual), she gurgles a
few times,,sends a few quick spurts of
the wet stuff into the sky. So she
gurgles and 50 million lnstamatics go
off like some kind of weird applause
from the crowd. And then she stops.
The crowd is disappointed, of course.
(”We drove 5,000 miles for that?...“ls
that all, Mommy?”...”Something’s the
matter with it. Somebody should fix
it.”)

And'then the old girl gurgles again.
And again 50 mil lion cameras go off and
again she stops. ("Something is the
matter with it. By God, Dorothy was
right.”)

Behind us a couple of 10 year olds are
arguinga bout the pictures they’ve been

tak ing. ("You don't have to take all the

“same pictures I take“...”l took mine

first”...“No, you didn't“...”Well. I took
it at the same time, then"...“Daddy,
will you make Johnny stop taking all
the same pictures l’m taking?”)

Finally, moaning and groaning, the
old girl comes, bursting forth a jet of
steaming water high into the air. The
crowd goes wild; cameras applaud like

. crazy.

But I believe I was discussing Patty
Hearst. She was in that crowd, pacing
up and down with a thoughtful, anxious
look on her face. There was no
mistaking the wan cheeks, the angular
face, the feathery, sparrow-thin frame,
the distant and guarded look about her
eyes. She had the manner of someone
who was annoyed about something. in
this case I believe it was the five-year-
old boy pacing beside her complaining
that the geyser was broken. She ex-
pressed this annoyance every five
seconds or so by batting the boy across

 

 

 

 

  

xmum‘ nwntfl' '

..‘ PATTY .
TELLS ALL AGAIN

  
 

 

 

Writers exploit poor Patty Hearst

the eyebrows with her hair brush.
l nudged Sue gently in the ribs.
”There she is,” i said, ’
"Who?” ‘ . '
."Right there." . _ ‘ .
Leaving Sue to guard our seats and
gathering up my courage,_ l walked up
to the pacing figure andsaidzl‘ "Patty

Hearst?"

I realized my mistake immediately.
From up close she looked no more like
Patty Hearst than did l. A lesser man
might have backed akwardly out of this
situation, apologizing rapidly that some
kind of mistake had been made and
then retum'ng red-faced to his seat.
But there is something in my character
that demands I carry through to it's
conclusion anything I start.

The woman stopped her pacing and
looked at me.

”Pardm me?" she said.

"I said did you lose your purse?”

”No, it’s right here on my shoulder.“

"Very well, then. What are you
complaining about?”

i left her staring open-mouthed after
me and returned to my seat. Old Faith-
ful had just sent a second unimpressive
gurgle into theairand people all around
me were murmuring in angry tones
thatthe frigging thing was busted. ”We
drive all the way from Cleveland for

that?“ one man grumbled.
Funny, lsensea certain anti-climatic

air about theendof my little story here.
Let me just appease my readers by
asserting that this was only the first of
several encounters we had with the
fugitive heiress. Some weeks later we
were to run into her again, this time in a
laundrymat in VancouVer. And still
later our pathscrossed in a McDonald’s
iust outside of Portland where Patty
was complaining about the size of her
hamburger. But those are different
stories and should be saved for some
other time. Or perhapsl shall never
tell them. I have, after all, fulfilled my
obligation. Like everyother writer in
the country, I have now written my
Patty Hearst story.

 

Ray Dickinson is a UK alumnus.

 

 

   

 

 .v-ou—u—m

 

spectrum

Opinions from inside and outside the University

 

 

 

 

New York City,”

a vagabond
and the NIT

ByJ. Daly

 

 

lspentmy spring break in New York because a lot of
people say it is a dying city. I wanted to see if this is
true, if the Big Apple is on the skids. I found there's a
great deal of life in the old boy yet.

Culture. New York has always been fulll of that.
After making the tour of the Fifth Avenue art galleries
and museums ldecided l-‘d play one of New York’s
most trying games—getting good seats to a few plays.
I did pretty well in the theater district and decided to
headu ptown toward the mecca of the arts—the Lincoln
Center. I passed by the Coliseum at Columbus Circle
where an event occured that changed my life.

A man lay asleep on the sidewalk outside the
Coliseum. He could have been one of any score of poor
unfortunates seen lounging on benches or stooping on
curbs in every quarter of the city. New York is the
town where success is the name of the game and
perhaps those stumble bums and wines serve as
reminders of what happens to the one who lags behind.

His shoes were patched with old newspapers, his torn
ieans soaked in dirt and oil, an old campaign iacket
bore the indignant dirty medals of untold, unsung
battles. The inevitable bottle of cheap wine lay empty
by his side. The old bum turned over, his jacket opened
and then I noticed whatdifferentiated him, or at least I
hope, from the other bums.

He was wearing a UK sweatshirt. Our eyes met. I
stopped, my legs wouldn’t carry me away. My brain
told me it was wrong for a vacationing coed to talk to
such a creature in the city of horror and violence. But
as the Beatles say, there was something in the way he
looked.

”Are you from Kentucky?,” I asked. He grinned a
wise grin, then laughed inscrutably and replied
”Adolph Rupp."

We both laughed. The ice had broken and we began
to talk. He had gone to a small Southern school of the
liberal arts persuasion. He was awarded a degree;
hungry yet, though, he headed toward Lexington, ever
eager in the pursuit of knowledge. Bad times followed.
A general malaise set in. He couldn't define exactly
what went wrong but mentioned with heroic in-
difference vast outs of hay fever brought on by tobacco
leaves. He left for New York full of promise but it
didn’t take long for the city to kill his incentive, break
his spiritand leavehim lying in thegutter.

He then asked a question that floored me. 'The
Wildcats are playing in the MT against Providence
tonight at the Garden. Wanna go?’ I didn't know what
to say. No, don’t get the wrong impression. lf he’d
asked me to see ’A Chorus Line' or atrtend a per-
formance of ‘Der Rosenkavalier', I’d agree in a
heartr’s beat. But basketball? I’d never been, the
thought had never crossed my mind. My associates at
school were not into athletics and in fact held iocks and
their flamboyant rituals in contempt.

There was a nobility in the bum’s baseness, I’ll call
him Lester, which made him unable to plead with me
to go. My feelings were split. I wanted to be with him.
It wasn’t compassion or perverse curiousity. Rather,
his vibes were good. We were synching. But basket-
ball? If you haven't learned yet, you will. One out of
twoaln‘t bad. "I'd love to go," I replied.

My fiscal situation is solvent. Money was no worry

and of course I was prepared to foot the bill for the
tickets and was anxious as well to fill the unfortunate
chapfull of franks and popcorn and other greases I had
heard were available at these arenas. But Lester
asked if I could wait a few minutes while he got ready.
This intelligent, sensitive man then reeled back and
forth in front of the uptown IRT entrance panhandling
money. His approach was varied. He snarled at the
executive, impied threats towards the secretary,
tenderly begged from the dowager. There is no fool
likea New York fool. None ofthem really saw Lester,
or felt for him. But they automatically reached into
their pockets and purses doling out coins and bills.
After 15 minutes or so, Lester yelled, "Come on. Let’s
grab a cab to the Garden." He counted the take—$34
and change. He wasn‘t impressed. ”I know I should

have walked over to the IND stop on Fifth.” There are.

surprises to be had in this world.

Madison Square Garden is an impressive structure.
We paid a premium to a scalper in the arcade and
acquired excellent seats. Endless ramps and stairs
and escalators led us first to a concession stand where
we decided to wait in line for what Lester called ”a
couple of dogs” and two huge tankards of that New
York delicacy Rheingold beer. A group of students in
UK garb waited impatiently in line behind us. "Hell,“
one of them cursed, "I never had to wait no two hours
in line for a beer at Memorial Coliseum.” The others
laughed and I suppose there was a joke hidden
somewhere in his complaint, yet I failed to see the
humor.

We then entered a huge oval-shaped arena, full of
noise and smoke and music and color. I was dizzy at
first walking through the crowd, iuggling with relish
my armload of goodies, trying to drink in the entire
scene. An usher showed us to a pair of seats. A young
man occupied one of them. ”You’re gonna have to get
out of there kid, the couple here got tickets. Now beat
it.” At this point Lester pointed to the tickets and in-
formed the usher he had the wrong seats. ”I think you
owe this young man an apology,” Lester said. "Yeah,
yeah. Sorry kid. No problem." Lester did not demand
the return of the half dollar he had presented the
seater.

The game began. I boast no knowledge of the sport.
Lester, with calm and dignity explained the action. UK
broke into an early lead. The Wildcats looked big and
strong, I was told, and they appeared to be in control of
the activity. However, a strange thing soon happened.
I was proud of the Kentuckians. Every time they
scored a hoop (Lester‘s term), they acted like true
gentlemen. They would thenyrun down court with
abandon allowing the other fellows to manipulate the
ball with composure and dignity. Good sports, I
thought.

The crafty Ocean Staters, however, were not so well
versed in courtly manners. After each score they
would swarm around the UK players making it quite
difficult for them to conduct themselves in an orderly
manner. Watching them, I was reminded of some
viscous predator~perhaps a hawk—sweeping after the
basketball as it it were unknowing prey. Lester called
this a full court press but I call it nothing less then
rudenes.

The large lead U K had run up had dwindled to almost
nothing at the intermission. We purchased a few more
tankards and I welcomed the opportunity to talk. I
asked Lester if his family didn’t care about his

 

\i

whereabouts. He replied that years ago hemh'ad written

his father with the sad news. He was afraid he was
becoming the town drunk. His father wrote back that
that wasn't so bad. But after he informed his father he
lived in New York, well, Lester hadn’t heard from his
family in years.

The second half began. The frenetic pace left me
breathless. UK would amass modest leads, but the
pesty Providence defense would always come back,
somehow expropriate the ball and follow up with easy
toss ins. With less than one minute left, Providence
made what in Kentucky might be called the run for the
roses. Time after time the teams relentless pressure
lorced turnovers. It hit a basket with little time left
and the roar of the Providencetans let everybody know
they had procured a slim single point lead.

After looking to the clock and learning there were a
mere seven seconds left, something very special
happened. If the night’s lessons were well learned, it
appeared unlikely that UK could penetrate close
enough to prove a score likely. Lester turned to me
and said, "In seven seconds we are going to be either
very, very happy or unspeakably sad."

I was jolted by these words for they were undeniably
true. Who would have thought, a mere 12 hours before,
that my emotional balance might be so dramatically
threatened. Was it the game? Or was if this strange,
tunny bum sitting to my right? Some magical com
blnation of the two? I’ll probably never know, and
should I learn I'd never put it to paper. Some secrets

Iivebest untold in the heart.
The refee's whistle blew. A tall, sturdy Wildcat took

the in bounds pass. Undaunted, he flipped to a darting
torm who effortlessly sped down court, his motive
questioned by no man. At the top of the key he veered,
then left his feet. Was it hours, or mere minutes he
hung in the air. The ball left his fingers. Up it went, its
path true, caught the lip of the rim and fell through.

Yes, the air was full of popcorn and beer. Yes, my
voice went hoarse with praise. Yes, we began to sing
"The sun shines bright...” Yes, for too few moments
my entire being was happy.

Then, as we walked toward the subway, there was no
question that our paths must now part. We walked
through a horrible dark tunnel. A crumpled mass of
humanity, a bum humming and smiling an idiot’s
smile blocked our path. As we stepped over him I
glanced sideways to see if there was some special sign,
some tokenof understanding and common experience
shared between these two hobos. I saw nothing, and
their mysterious secret is safe.

I didn’t cry as Lester got on the uptown express. I
didn’t ask him his number, for I knew inside he lived
in Central Park. I kissed him softly on the cheek,
turned and ran aboard the departing local only to see
him again in my benevolent dreams.

ldon’t getaround muchanymore. I sit in a corner of
the commune. My Bible is the TV and radio listings.
Untold heurs I spend following the Cats, the Colonels,
local high school action. Important questions nag me.
Will Bernard King go pro? Is the young Kentucky
team NCAA baund next year? Is Golden State for real?

Is there life after basketball? Important questions,
yes, but they bother me not for my destiny is truly
manifest. There is secwity in this.

 

James Daly is a former UK student who now lives in
New York City.

 

 

 

 

  
  

 

 

 
  

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1‘ news briefs

 

 

Council votes to admit PLO I
despite objections from us.

I \I II.“ \ \‘Ilii\s. \.\. t \l':-—-'l‘he Security ('ounctl today

pent-ti a debate or. Israeli practices in occupied .\t'ab territories
: j. \ oting. over I S. objections. to invite the Palestine Liberation
urganuation Mar to participate.

The Vote set the stage tor the tirst direct confrontation between
israei and the I’LU in the council.

tasting the tone \‘ote against giving the Palestinians the same
rights as a member state at the council table. (IS. Ambassador
w tlltam \\ Scranton tit-claret! that the move was a “concerted
attempt to disregard the rules ot procedure.”

How t'\'t'l'. Scranton. in his tirst speech to the council since be
replaced mitt LIIIIIlL'. Daniel I’. .\onnihan as l'.S. delegate. also
~titllltlt'tl a note ol moderation on the Palestinian question. Ile
»Il‘t~.\s(-tl that he was objecting only to the tact that the Pl.“ was
l't'lllL‘, treated as a member state.

They ote was 11-1 . w ith Britain. I-‘ranceandltaly abstaining.

Officials to check Scotia mine
to determine amount of danger

ltll IS\'II.l.l-I t.\l't—'I‘he Scotia (‘oal (.‘o. Black Mountain mine
where 20 miners died two weeks ago will be checked today to see if
it's any less dangerous than when the shaft was sealed. Kentucky
Mining (‘ommissioner II..\'. Kirkpatrick said Monday.

The mine won't be reopened. however. until the oxygen content
til the mine is down to three per cent or less. he said. That could
ake two to three months. depending on the effectiveness of the
seals. l\irkpatrick said.

The mine was sealed so any possible fires would use up the
available oxygen. It would be impossible for methane gas in the
lt.lll(' to ex plode again it” the oxygen content is reduced to three per
cent. Kirkpatrick said. ‘

He said officials tiopcto reduce the oxygen content to one per cent
: clone trying to recover the bodies of II men killed two days after
an uiitial blast in themineattlven Fork killed 15 miners.

I000 London police rode subWays
after week of terrorist bombings

I.ti\|iti.\ t.\I'l—In an atmosphere of fear and suspicion. 1,000
police rode the 25-mile London subway system Monday after a
nightmarish week of bombings blamed on Irish nationalists.

Many of the police»men and women. uniformed and plain-
elothts packed pistols under coats or in handbags. an unusual
thing tor l-lritish police. They also rode commuter trains coming
into London and patroled stations.

The atmosphere was tense inside the trains. which are used by
-wo million riders a day. Police had warned passengers to “be your
own security guards."

Numbers struck three subway trains in 48 hours last week.
security chiefs feared it could be the start of an Irish Republican
.\rmy blitz on the capital‘s transport network.

*

 

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Learning to say no

Training channels spontaneity

It} l.\'.\.\l-; Fl'NKl-I
Kernel staff It I'iter
.. .4. ,

\ou are at home working on a
project for a class. Airiend calls
and asks for a ride across town.
\\ hat will you say"?

It you are assertive you will
refuse. said Frank Paige. an
educational psychology student.
Paige conducted an asser-
tiveness training group last
semester in conjunction with the
Counseling and Testing Center.

"The need for assertiveness
training springs from con-
tradictory societal norms.“
Paige said.

“Parents teach children to be
wellbehaved. the church rein-
iorces their command and in
school they have to sit and' be
quiet. These things repress
spontaneity.“ he said. "Then on
the other hand people are en-
couraged to be aggressive and
get ahead.“

spontaneity can be channelled
reasonably and effectively
through assertiveness training.
Paige said.

Fortyeight students are now
learning assertive behavior in a
free six week course. taught once
a week by two Counseling and
Testing Center interns. One
hundred people have already
signed up for the sessions
beginning in April. said intern
Nancy Deyoub.

"Our goal is to help passive
people to become more assertive
and to help aggressive people
tame their aggressive ten-
dendes.“ she said.

The assertiveness groups‘
format relies on techniques
outlined in bestsellers like “When

  

 

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