THE UNDERGRADUATE CHAIR

DARTMOUTH and the Hanover community followed the rest of the nation this fall, trampling over ancient tradition to seek shelter under Lyndon Johnson's big wings.

The quadrennial straw-poll, sponsored jointly by the Undergraduate Council and The Dartmouth, showed the President to be preferred by 68.9 per cent of the student body, and by an astounding 89.4 per cent of the faculty. The announcement added that in the eight presidential polls from 1920 to 1952 the students had picked the Republican candidate in each case by margins of no less than 61 per cent. Four years ago 59.7 per cent had supported Richard Nixon, over a Democratic candidate who supposedly held an unusual attraction for young people.

Numerous breakdowns on the data produced an imposing but almost-unreadable chart on the front page of TheD the day before the election. The Class of 1967 had given the Senator his widest margin, while the seniors gave him the smallest. It was surprising also to note that students who listed themselves as independents outnumbered Republicans and Democrats combined, and that nominal Republicans had declined from about 50 per cent to 27 per cent of the student body since 1960.

Extremism was the word on campus as elsewhere; the issues got pretty short treatment, but personalities were never out of the spotlight. The poll-takers reported a lot of explanations accompanying their votes: "Only because Goldwater is so bad," or "the lesser of two evils," or "who else you got?"

Unexpected support for Goldwater came from Bob Booms '66, who had resigned with great fanfare last winter as vice-president of the Young Democrats in order to head Students for Rockefeller in the New Hampshire primary. Now, on October 16, he apologized for his "simplistic" attitude, but announced that he was rejecting Johnson as "a man of puzzling if not sinister quality." This type of switch reflected the freedom from commitment which the student enjoys, but gives up when the time comes for him to sign a party roll.

The conservative Young Americans for Freedom had picked themselves a difficult row to hoe when they gained grudging recognition at Dartmouth three years ago. It might have appeared that the defeat of one of their founding fathers would spell death for the local organization. YAF had been the only student group to hit the streets for Barry, while the Young Republicans had, almost to a man, gone over to Johnson. But when asked if they planned to close up after the disaster, their"acting president told a reporter, "Hell no, man. We'll still be around." But they couldn't say much beyond that.

Another not-infrequent phenomenon among Dartmouth's young voters was a sort of "overlash" reflected in one bizarre letter which stood up for the good old American "right not to choose." A few men were too reluctant even to make the best of a bad choice, and instead chose to waste their votes on Blomen and Hass, Shaw and DeBerry, or whatever other fringe party candidates appeared on their absentee ballots.* It was not a pretty picture, but here as everywhere else, the outcome was never in doubt, so it was hard to care.

An anonymous phone call to WDCR announced that President Dickey had cancelled classes for Election Day, and a happy announcer broadcast the message without official confirmation. But even when the glum truth was reestablished later in the day, it couldn't kill the holiday atmosphere with which students looked forward to an evening before the Tube. Dartmouth too was sick of politics, but the big contest at least promised to come out OK, and that would be cause enough for a celebration, so Tuesday evening saw Moe's familiar green pickup rattling down Webster Avenue with beer for the faithful. Hardly a man could be seen on the street that night where occasional cheers sounded from glowing fraternity house windows and passed without echoes into the sharp November night.

PASSING out handbills without a permit" last month put senior Allan Coggeshall '64 behind bars in Jackson, Miss., where he had gone with four other undergraduates to work on the "Freedom Vote" of the Council on Federated Organizations.

The unusual mid-year mission from the Political Action Commission of the Dartmouth Christian Union was prompted by (he timeliness of the Mississippi project. The Freedom Democratic party, which had created such a stir at the Atlantic City convention, was out to show in a staged election how different the results would be if registration were open to all. The regular Democrats who control all state politics had permitted only 6% of the eligible Negroes to put their names on the rolls. With the straw tally would come a demand that this year's official results be declared illegal, and a challenge by the Negroes for seating rights at the 1968 Democratic convention.

Eight students altogether went from Hanover, in two carloads which left eight days apart, and each stayed nine days. They left their cars in Birmingham, Ala., and took buses from there, for fear of attracting added attention by appearing in cars with out of state plates.

One of the groups went South more than a week before the actual voting; these men had the really tough job: canvassing door-to-door to persuade reluctant Negroes to vote in. this year's demonstration and afterward to attend voter-education

clinics. There they learn the importance of the individual ballot in a democracy and the vagaries of the registration laws in Mississippi, where a poll tax is due two years before registration.

The arrest for distributing handbills was only the first of three for Coggeshall during his brief stay in the state. He was also detained and fined for driving without a license (which he had inadvertently left back at his room) and for "public drunkenness," which was simply a matter of walking down the street with several Negoes. "The charge is irrelevant," he said afterward. "They don't care what they book you on. It's just that you've been arrested, which means that they are out to get you. The second and third charges were just to get me off the street and away from the work I was supposed to be doing."

The first arrest came on a Saturday afternoon, shortly after Coggeshall, who is a Senior Fellow, had decided to remain in the state for another week. So the other three men from the College who had traveled with him were unaware of his arrest when they left from Meridian for home. COFO informed George Kalbfleisch of the DCU of the incident and bail money was quickly collected and dispatched. Coggeshall was released after 24 hours behind bars but remained in Jackson until he was sure he could leave the state without forfeiting bail. Further harassment followed of course. Bomb threats and automobile chases also helped to make the experience memorable for the eight men — scary enough to impress them with a sense of the challenge to be found there if they return South next summer.

Although the expedition got only minimal publicity, PAC chairman Bruce Lawder claimed that "money is still coming in from guys who say they can't go, but would like to contribute in some way. Last spring for all our efforts we could only get three men down to St. Augustine, but this time eight boys volunteered to go on a much more expensive and dangerous assignment. So we can definitely say that interest is growing on this campus. In the last year, civil rights work has become a prestige activity for college students all over the country, and I'm glad we're catching up."

Lawder himself spent the summer tutoring in St. Augustine, where he had been jailed last spring with the first group of undergraduates to venture into the field.

A folk concert sponsored by the PAC last month and a "Freedom Weekend" contemplated for February with speakers and musical attractions will provide funds for future projects. Right now the biggest goal appears to be the recruitment of 25 men to join Lawder in St. Augustine next summer.

Response has been encouraging at collection booths around Hanover and campus, including special posts at polling places here and in Norwich where a "voluntary poll tax" was collected to continue Negro voter-registration work in the Deep South. In short, both town and gown were attempting to meet concretely the challenge of the moral and political issue which no amount of campaign oratory would affect.

* Bishop Homer Tomlinson, perennial candidate of the Theocratic Party, and a sentimental favorite here since his campaign visit over in 1960, announced his "concession" prematurely in late October, thus alienating one of his strongest pockets of support.

WDCR took over the Top of the Hop for its coverage of Election Night returns.