| History Part I
The Origins of EQV
By Gus Napier
(’60)
It was a difficult divorce; but given how different the two
parties had become, one that was probably inevitable. Like so many breakups,
there was plenty of acrimony and ambivalence; there was the agony of indecision,
even mutual efforts at reconciliation. In the end, one party had changed and
grown, while the other clung to the past. We of Phi Gamma of Alpha Chi Rho were
the mal-contents, the up-starts, and if you will, the revolutionaries.
The story of the birth of EQV is connected with the
emergence of a new consciousness in mid-twentieth century America, and it also
has a contemporary ring to it. Our fraternity’s story is a small one, but we
dealt with important issues, and I believe we showed courage and foresight. It
is a story worth telling, and it contains victories worth celebrating. . It
foreshadowed many of the changes in public policy that are now accepted as a
matter of course and which are characterized as the legacies of the 1960s and
the civil rights movement.
Alpha Chi Rho was begun in 1895 by the Reverend Paul
Ziegler, an Episcopalian minister from Detroit
who had gone to Trinity College in Hartford.
Ziegler’s son Carl also went to Trinity; and when he did not get into his
father’s literary society (fraternity), Beta Beta, the father helped his son and
a couple of friends who had also been denied Beta Beta membership form a new
fraternity at Trinity. It is noteworthy that the son, Carl, later also became a
minister, and was a staunch prohibitionist. The new fraternity, Alpha Chi Rho,
was designed to be “different from existing Greek societies,” with a more
religious orientation. As one reads the history (a highly slanted version is
available on the web), it appears that in the early years as new chapters were
begun, there was conflict from some quarters about the standards for membership
being too stringent, too “idealistic.”
Alpha Chi Rho was founded as a Christian fraternity; and
until 1954, its first “landmark” read, “Membership from among Christians only.”
Wesleyan’s origins were also Christian, and certainly in 1911 when Phi Gamma
chapter was established on our campus, there would have been an apparent
synchrony between the ideals of the College and those of the Fraternity. Until
fairly late in its history, Phi Gamma seems to have had a religious ethos. Bill
Murphy (’60) writes about meeting an alumnus who returned for a reunion and
“…how strange we thought him to be for wanting to sing hymns and other songs
around the fireplace on Sunday night.”
The original home of our chapter was in rented quarters in
the former Pike residence. In 1925 the College announced its intention of
leveling the Pike building to make way for the new biology lab (Shanklin), and
the brick building on the corner of Court and High Streets was constructed by
the local chapter.
The first public surfacing of discontent with Alpha Chi
Rho’s ideology and its membership requirements occurred in 1954, when, at the
national convention, “liberal elements” in the fraternity forced a change in the
first landmark. The phrase “…membership from among Christians only” was replaced
by a passage requiring members to respect Jesus of Nazareth as their moral
exemplar. This change was reflected in the “exoteric manual.” However, the
secret ritual of the fraternity (the “esoteric manual”) remained unchanged, and
it required that initiates swear allegiance to Christianity as a theological
doctrine. This conflict between the Fraternity’s more inclusive public face and
its restrictive private requirements was at the heart of our chapter’s conflict
with the National. It was a very 1950s script: keep things looking “nice”
on the surface, and do your unsavory work behind closed doors.
As our chapter fought to get Alpha Chi Rho to bring its
secret principles in alignment with its publicly-advertised ones, the darker
side of the “real” attitudes of the fraternity emerged, and they revealed a
National organization dedicated to discriminatory practices against
non-Christians, and against African Americans as well. While there was clearly
some sympathy for our positions in the larger membership, our chapter stood
alone in defying the National.
Leading up to our chapter’s open conflict with the
National, there was a disconnect of sorts between the two groups. Ted Wieseman
(’58): “There wasn’t much contact with the National for a number of years,
apparently. Curley Walden was for many years the Executive Director (he retired
in ill health in 1959), and he was an old man by the time I came on the scene.
Curly visited from time to time, but the visits must have been somewhat
perfunctory.”
While the National was “not paying attention,” our chapter
apparently papered over the potential conflict with the National by quietly
changing the ritual, omitting the offending phrases. Ernie Dunn ’59 estimates
that many changes where made to the ritual. By 1957, most members had not been
“properly” initiated.
During this period of “lax supervision” by the National,
Phi Gamma had assembled a very lively and diverse membership. Frank Avantaggio
(’56), a retired surgeon who now lives in Damariscotta, ME, was chapter
president during this period of change: “I believe there had been over the years
a number of Jewish members, and then we got an opportunity to pledge these two
great African-American guys, Lenny Moore (’59) and Ernie Dunn (’59). They were
terrific, and we wanted them as members. There was no great discussion; we just
pledged the people we wanted to, so we invited them, and they both accepted. At
that time we had several Jewish members as well.” Ernie believes that there
was considerable discussion before he and Lenny were pledged: “They knew
that in doing so it would not be in keeping with the policies of AXP, which
prior to that time had been ‘lily white.’” Ted Wieseman recalls that Avantaggio
told him that “Curly Walden did pay a visit after Ernie and Lenny were pledged,
and when he noticed that we had minority members he may have been upset, but he
did not raise any objections.
A climate of
diversity
Ted Wieseman: “EQV was born in a community ethos created by
these earlier classes. Some of us joined because of this ethos, others acquired
it by interacting with the group.”
Gus Napier: “When I joined AXP in the fall of 1956, I did
so partly because of the diversity of the membership. I had grown up in the Jim
Crow south, and it was important to me that Phi Gamma had pledged two
outstanding African American men. I was also drawn to the sheer liveliness of
the fraternity and what I later learned was its intellectual boldness.”
Bill Murphy comments on how much exuberance poured out of
the membership. He recalls evenings when the after-dinner singing went on and
on, making it hard for the president to get any order for announcements or
fraternity business. “I’m pleased that AXP had as much diversity as the campus
itself. I’m pleased to have been part of a fraternity with mixed religions and
mixed races. I joined AXP because I knew Ernie Dunn from my high school, and I
believed that if Ernie liked the house, it was good enough for me.”
Gus Napier: “I recall one particularly memorable night when
someone stood up to announce a meeting after dinner—I believe it was Murphy
convening the chapter’s Methodists (he does not remember it). Then someone else
called a meeting. Soon most of the membership chimed in, calling meeting after
meeting of various sub-groups: Jews, WASPS, Catholics, southerners, African
Americans, left-handed people, people who had gone to prep school, scholarship
students, guys from Connecticut, and from New York.
It was hilarious and joyful and a spontaneous celebration of sorts of our
diversity. I remember thinking, ‘What a great group I have joined!’”
These two worlds—the diverse and lively local and its
restrictive parent--soon came into sharp and unpleasant contact. Don Hinman
(’59), who was co-president for his year with Doug Bennet (’59), relates this
tale, which may be apocryphal but is nevertheless symbolic of the impending
clash: “The story is that the National Secretary came for his annual visit and
found Frank Avantaggio and another brother having a swordfight on the stairs
with the sacred cross and the sacred crook, or whatever they were called. And
apparently he nearly had a stroke.” Frank doesn’t remember this event.
But Ted Wieseman has vivid recall of much uglier scenes,
played out in sotto voce during the spring and early summer of
1957 when he was president of the Chapter. “It was probably April, and with no
warning these two guys from the National appeared. One was, I believe, Frank
Williams, a heavy-set man, and not bright. The other was Stanley Bedford, who
was the National’s vice-president and soon to become president. Bedford was the
dominant player and did most of the talking. He looked a bit like a villain:
short, with a pencil mustache and slicked-back hair, something like a cross
between a numbers man and an enforcer.”
An “enforcer” he seemed to be. He wondered why no one was
wearing an AXP fraternity pin. Wieseman: “Though he made disparaging remarks
about our ‘Negro’ pledges, he seemed more focused on our Jewish members. He
wanted to know how a Jew could in good conscience pledge a Christian
fraternity.” There seems wide agreement that the National was focused on our
inclusion of Jewish members. Ernie Dunn: “Race was a problem, but it was not the
problem that initiated our separation from the National. It had to do primarily
with the Jewish brothers who had joined prior to my coming to Wesleyan.”
If Ted’s meeting with the National officers was unpleasant,
it was mild in comparison to what followed.
Wieseman: “In June, the Chapter was called to a meeting in New Jersey. I stayed
after classes were over to be able to attend it, and Bill Olson (’58, deceased),
the ritual officer, went with me. It was a night meeting in
Newark, around 8:00, in an empty building. I recall the bright
florescent lights. Bedford was in charge, but there were some others there as
well. It was a kind of inquisition, with accusations and threats. They wanted us
to ‘get rid of those guys,’ and they were particularly focused on our Jewish
members. We were to hold rigorous initiations using the full esoteric manual.
They said that the National owned the house with the implied threat to kick us
out if we didn’t comply. It was a truly awful experience.”
Walter Burnett (’59) also remembers attending such a
meeting in New Jersey with recollections similar to Ted’s. In addition to the
fluorescent lights, it was hot. He remembers sweating profusely. The behavior of
the national leadership was of total intimidation. The threats of taking away
the house were unabashed and the demand for getting rid of Ernie and Lenny was
made explicitly clear. He left the meeting with a sense of unreality and
disbelief. The racial and religious bigotry and the obsession with the
fraternity ritual by the “adult leadership” were beyond his comprehension.
When Ted and Bill came back to Wesleyan, they went to see
Dean Don Eldridge (’31), an alumnus of the Chapter: “Eldridge was very
supportive and encouraged us to stand up to the National. He warned us that we
would have trouble with the alumni, and he disputed the National’s claim to
ownership of the house. As this thing played out, Eldridge functioned as a kind
of CEO/adviser for the chapter.”
Ted and Bill also went to see Stuart Heddon, the Chapter’s
influential alumnus, who lived in western Connecticut. Heddon had guided
Wesleyan’s economic success in the stock market after World War II (he had
engineered the purchase of My Weekly Reader, for example). “Heddon had
come out of World War II with a kind of ‘stand up for what you believe’
attitude, and he encouraged us to oppose the National. He said, ‘Tell the
truth.’ We knew we had him in our corner.” President Butterfield, however, was
apparently non-committal: “…his decision was to stay out of this phase of the
conflict.”
By the fall of 1957, a new ethos, this one of cohesion and
defiance, was beginning to take place in the Chapter. Gus Napier: “I believe
that Wieseman was instrumental in this shift, that he was a principal architect
of a new consciousness at Phi Gamma.” If the Chapter’s leadership was emboldened
by support from Eldridge and Heddon, some of the pledges took courage from this
emerging climate. At the initiation, the
differences between the exoteric and esoteric manuals were explained, and two
pledges, Paul Cable (’61 deceased) and Paul Woodfill (’61 no information
available about him) refused to participate in the ritual until it was changed.
The members then voted unanimously to attempt to modify the ritual according to
the National’s accepted procedures. Gus Napier was named chair of the ritual
committee and work was begun on an alternative set of guiding principles.
During the winter and spring of 1957-58, a number of
meetings were held between the Local and the National. In February, 1958,
Bedford, by now National president, attended a meeting of Phi Gamma and
announced that no ritual changes had been contemplated by the National. A month
later, on March 4, Bedford and Sterling Mayo, Vice-President, attended a meeting
in Middletown; Wieseman represented the chapter, as well as alumni Gould (’48)
and Anderson (’40).
In June of 1958, a number of graduate members of the local
were invited to Wesleyan to what was a very well-attended Annual Meeting. After
a long discussion, the alumni urged that at the National meeting in September,
an alternative reading of the Ritual be pursued, and in the event that the
National convention did not accept such a motion, the proposed revised ritual be
used until this question was settled for those pledges who had not accepted the
old ritual. This support from the alumni group was heartening for the chapter.
Ernie Dunn ’59 and Don Hinman ’59 represented our chapter
at the National’s annual meeting in the fall of 1958. Dunn: “I will never forget
walking into that hall. A complete silence fell when I entered. I believe no one
in the fraternity but Bedford and Mayo knew that there was an African American
member. I was the first one.” Not only was our chapter’s attempt to modify the
ritual unsuccessful, but a retaliatory motion passed (later referred to
committee), to re-draft the exoteric manual in accordance with the esoteric.
Defiance
Angered by this rebuke, the local chapter, led by President
Doug Bennet, voted to hold an initiation using the revised ritual, and to notify
the National regarding this decision. This initiation was held on October 9,
1958, and was attended by Sterling Mayo and Stanley Bedford. At the end of the
initiation all the members of our chapter were suspended for refusal to conduct
an initiation council in accordance with Ritual codes. The Chapter then voted to
re-name the suspended chapter “The Black Walnut Club,” the name of our eating
club; and our slate of officers was re-elected. Then the two pledges who had
refused to be initiated the previous year—Paul Cable and Frank Woodfill—were
initiated. Bennet, in an article in the Argus: “A strict interpretation
of our ritual discriminates against diversity of membership. Such discrimination
is, we feel, in opposition to our ideals and also to those of Wesleyan
University.” That left the building on High Street with two resident
fraternities: Phi Gamma with no members, and the Black Walnut Club (BWC),
brimming with idealism and energy.
Our suspension by the National was hot news on campus for
some time; there were numerous articles in the Argus, and our stand
attracted favorable opinion from the faculty, from President Butterfield, and
from other students. In November we all received individual letters from the
National informing us of our suspension and announcing a “hearing” at the
headquarters in New York City: “Failure to appear
will constitute acknowledgement of guilt.” Since there was no question of our
“guilt,” no one from the Chapter attended.
On January 9, 1959, Corresponding Secretary Bob Patricelli
(’61) wrote a very articulate letter to the Garnet and White, the
Fraternity’s magazine, explaining our position, and which we paraphrase: No we
are not, as Curley Walden charged in the previous issue of the magazine,
“…clever forces hammering away to break up the American college fraternity.” We
are not anti-fraternity, anti-Christian, anti-religious or aesthetic
intellectuals with no respect for tradition. We have, in fact, stronger
religious connections than many fraternities on campus; but we do not believe
that a person’s religious belief should be a criterion for membership in a
college fraternity, and on this stand we were suspended.”
Patricelli’s letter summarized the history of the conflict,
explained why we took the stand we did, cited, our alumni support, quoted
Butterfield’s praise of the way we had handled the crisis: “…with maturity,
patience, reason, and courtesy.” Bob asked for response from the National
membership.
The letter was not published. When you do not have an open
mike, you cannot speak.
Moore was a member of our own chapter, and his influence
was decisive in the defeat of our efforts to change the National’s position. His
“open” letter of April 4, 1959, is a classic paranoid diatribe. One presumes
that he had an open mike at the National; the letter went to all of AXP’s
alumni.
According to Moore, dark forces are plotting to destroy all
that we hold dear—in particular, good Christian fraternities. These forces
reputedly originated in New York City immediately
after World War II: “The campaign was carefully planned, well-financed,
well-publicized.” This sinister group (there is no doubt that he means Jews)
made little progress in destroying fraternities at Trinity, Gettysburg, and
Pennsylvania, but they succeeded at Amherst and Williams, “…where the battle was
lost for too little too late. At Wesleyan it is late but not too late
(italics his).”
Moore traces the attack on fraternities at Wesleyan to a
1955 report of the Sub-Committee on Fraternities of The Educational Policy
Committee, chaired by Assistant Professor Robert S. Cohen (’42) “…not a
fraternity member and a person with close associations with Communist
organizations.” The report, negative regarding fraternities and their
discriminatory policies, is published and then, according to Moore, mysteriously
disappears. Professor Cohen “takes off for Boston
University” and the gauntlet is picked up by Morton Jay Tenzer, Instructor in
Government, who issues another report in 1958 which lists all fraternities
having clauses and covert agreements. According to Moore, Tenzer recommends that
if the University doesn’t adopt the committee’s recommendations, individual
faculty members should initiate private punitive measures against the offending
houses.
Moore of course links our chapter with these dark forces,
and he credits us with disrupting an otherwise peaceful fraternity. We have been
rebuffed by the National Convention of 1958, yet we persist.
Moore does not deny that Alpha Chi Rho is a Christian
fraternity. What is wrong with having a Christian fraternity, he argues? He
aligns Alpha Chi Rho with Wesleyan’s Christian tradition: “As long as members of
Alpha Chi Rho respect the norms of human conduct that have been Wesleyan’s since
the days of Wilbur Fisk and Laban Clark, we apprehend no reason why we should
retreat before the attack of persons like Cohen, Tenzer and others who are
aliens and destroyers of the authentic tradition of Wesleyan. That tradition
is Christian (italics his).”
Side-stepping the charge of discrimination, and having
bathed himself and the Fraternity in white, Moore issues his call to arms.
“FIGHT!” he commands. “There are those whose counsel is cowardly submission to
what some call progress. There are those who have no fight in them. But already
there is a body of well over two hundred Graduates of Phi Gamma who stand by
Alpha Chi Rho’s moral right to be an autonomous Christian Fraternity without
compromise or equivocation—as it has been from the beginning. And for this they
will fight by every honorable means.”
And fight he, and they, did.
In April of 1959, our chapter was notified by the National
that a meeting with Phi Gamma’s alumni was to be held in New
York City on April 25. When we (the suspended leadership) asked to be
included in the discussions, we were told that we could attend only a portion of
the meeting, and only as observers. Denied a voice in these proceedings, Gus
Napier, president of BWC, wrote to all Chapter alumni, and included Patricelli’s
unpublished letter to the Garnet and White. These two letters outlined
the causes of our actions and defended them, but Napier’s letter also described
the suspended Chapter’s present condition: “We have aroused much favorable
comment among the undergraduates, the faculty and the administration for our
action in regard to the National fraternity. President Butterfield’s comment
speaks for the older group, while the fact that we have an eating club full to
capacity with a waiting list speaks for our popularity with the undergraduates.”
He described the renovations we were making to
the house from undergraduate funds (including furniture for the library and a
new lawn!), our creation of a new lecture series inviting noted writers,
painters and musicians to speak at the Fraternity. He also detailed the work of
three committees that were at work drafting the structure of a new organization,
which we clearly intended to create if a compromise could not be reached with
the National. At the heart of this on-going work was the creation of new and
liberal principles: “(these principles) call for dedication to certain moral
ideals, for a sense of responsibility to the group, for a close co-ordination
with the educational goals of Wesleyan, and for standards of membership which
value social existence and friendship but which negate any discriminatory
practices—be they economic, racial or religious.”
Finally, our grievances were cited:
“We have had our rushing choices
negated by religious restrictions in the Ritual; and when we tried to abide by
our intellectual and moral convictions, we were expelled temporarily from the
Fraternity. We have even suffered the indignities of an attempted seizure of our
bank account and of an attempt to discredit us on this campus. We have been
continually suppressed in our efforts to present our stand and have witnessed
many attempts, from proxies to secret meetings, to organize the Alumni against
us. We only ask that you consider the relative validity of each position when
you are asked to decide in favor of one or the other.”
Then our Chapter alumni met with the National in
New York on April 25. While Moore’s forces were at work on the right,
a more progressive group of Phi Gamma alumni seemed to be coming forward. There
is little record of what transpired at that meeting in New
York, but some of our alums must have come to our defense.
On May 18, there was another meeting in New York; and at this one a tentative compromise with the
National was reached. Members of the Phi Gamma Building Association were
present, as well as National President Sterling Mayo and Vice-President Paul
Brown (note the change in AXP leadership, which may have played a role in the
compromise). Our chapter was represented by Jay Levy (’60), and Don Hinman. In
an Argus article on May 22, Levy quotes BWC president Napier: “This
meeting was the first one on which a workable compromise was agreed upon by both
residents and National officers. If approved by the full National Council, these
revisions will eliminate all clauses which we consider discriminatory. With
these changes, the Phi Gamma chapter feels it has accomplished a significant
victory in eliminating discriminatory practices at Wesleyan.”
The full National Council did approve the compromise, and
our suspension was lifted. It was certainly a victory, but it was to prove
pyrrhic.
In July, 1959, in-coming freshmen in the Class of 1963
received a letter from Stephen Derby (’60), our rushing chairman, on Phi Gamma
of Alpha Chi Rho stationary, welcoming them to Wesleyan and inviting them to
consider our fraternity. It was a warm and idealistic letter, and began with our
new guiding principles, one of which was:
“We believe that the basic
determinant of a candidate’s eligibility for membership should be his potential
for contributing to friendship, mutual respect and consideration within the
Brotherhood. We maintain that race, religion, and nationality are not acceptable
criteria for selecting members.”
The letter expresses our skepticism regarding conformity to
organizational demands:
“Our only criterion is to find
people who will make a unique contribution to our fraternity. In short, we
reject the concept of complete homogeneity, believing that each member will
benefit more from contact with “individuals,” and being firm in our conviction
that a person’s religious beliefs, race, or nationality need not reflect his
true strength of character.”
While the National Council had lifted our suspension in
June, 1959, Robert Moore’s circulars from the “Committee to Preserve Phi Gamma
of Alpha Chi Rho,” and his behind-the-scenes jockeying, were at work influencing
the National leadership. In August, before the National convention, the National
Council reversed its position on lifting our suspension. We were again
suspended. The only person on the Council who voted against the reversal of
their earlier decision was Sterling Mayo.
When the National Convention occurred, we were represented
by Jay Levy, who was incoming Chapter president. Jay was assigned to room with
the only other Jewish member at the meeting, Dartmouth’s chapter president
Richard Levy. Jay: “Dick Levy and I decided we would try to convince the other
AXP representatives to open up the Fraternity to all groups of people…but there
was no interest in changing the National to accept non-Christian members. When
it came down to a vote, any decision to change the Fraternity’s charter was
rejected.”
At our first chapter meeting in September, 1959, Jay
reported the National’s decision as well as his own negative experience at the
convention; and a unanimous vote was taken to leave Alpha Chi Rho and to form a
fraternity. Gus Napier: “I was leading the meeting at that point, and when I
called for the vote I recall feeling a little fearful and a lot excited and
saying to myself, ‘Where is this going to lead?’ There was tremendous enthusiasm
for moving ahead.” After the vote, Jay and Bob Patricelli ran upstairs to search
for a name. Jay: “We thought it shouldn’t be Greek, so maybe Latin. I had
studied Latin and came across the phrase, “Esse quam videri,” which seemed to
summarize what we were trying to do; and when we came back to the meeting, it
was immediately voted in.”
It seems entirely fitting that as the second-term president
for the Class of ’60, Jay Levy was the first president of Esse Quam Videre
(EQV). Jay was a strong presence in the fraternity, and his accomplishments were
many: an outstanding academic record, student body vice-president, creator of
the “Education-Directed Studies Program” to familiarize students with the
College Plan, and the co-conspirator in his and his twin Stuart’s famous
college-swap in early 1958, a bold move that amused and befuddled the campus,
including some in his own fraternity.
It is somewhat axiomatic that the ownership of territory is
vital, and the possession of the building on High Street was a critical issue.
In the fall of 1959, the Phi Gamma Building Association of Alpha Chi Rho, Inc.
wrote to the alumni of the Chapter. Grieving for the loss of Phi Gamma but
sympathetic to our cause, they began with: “There is no longer an Alpha Chi Rho
chapter at Wesleyan.” They detailed the history of the dispute, and while they
regretted its outcome, admitted that if we of the local chapter were to retain
the integrity of our stand, we really had no choice but to leave the National.
This alumni group did not believe that Alpha Chi Rho had any chance of
re-establishing itself at Wesleyan, since a college rule prohibited a fraternity
from coming on campus if it imposed restrictions on prospective candidates for
membership. They lamented that the loss of the chapter was due largely to the
efforts of Phi Gamma’s Robert Moore, who initiated the reversal by the National
Council of its June action.
The alumni group did not want the house to belong to the
National, who would absorb it into their treasury. They recommended changes to
the by-laws and suggested leasing the building to Wesleyan for two years, with
the assumption that Wesleyan would eventually own the building. And they called
for a meeting at the Chapter house on October 17, at which time the proposed new
by-laws would be voted on.
The letter is signed by some of our closest allies: Donald
A. Eldridge, President; Henry B. Anderson, Vice-President; Frank A. Johnson,
Secretary-Treasurer; William B. Gould; Gilbert W. Anderson; Frank Avantaggio;
and by Augustus Napier (immediate past president).
When AXP eventually attempted to return to Wesleyan in
1963, some of our alumni were called back from their careers to explain the
history and to comment. In an Argus article, the architect of our revolt,
Ted Wieseman, then an attorney in Washington, stated that AXP remained a
discriminatory organization “within the meaning of the Fourteenth Amendment. Any
state university having a “Crow” chapter on its campus, according to this
interpretation, would be subject to federal prosecution.”
Ted Thiesmeyer (’58), commented on the discrepancy between
the way AXP was presenting itself to the Administration, and the reality of its
continuing covert discriminatory policies: “They tend to deal in mutual
‘understandings’ and informal ‘agreements.’ Their pretend liberalism, as
proclaimed in their brochure, is a flagrant misrepresentation of the actual
situation.”
Once again, it was the old Alpha Chi Rho -- determined to
seem rather than to be.
|
