Evening star., 1942-08-01

dtiS SooN w ANNx>
Henry McLemore. in it's mouth and
count its teeth, because it has need
ed an upper case ever since that
afternoon when I knocked it onto
a concrete floor in the excitement
of watching a 900 to-1-shot Notre
Dame team come from nowhere 10
beat great Ohio State club in the
final second.
The oil baby has been with me
through many fine moment, IN
Guiding the top one I guess I'll ever
have. That was in Berlin. the after
noon a big German named Long,
I believe, tied Jesse Owen, In the
Olympic broad Jump.
When the time tor the iump-of
came. Owen could not get the crowd
to give him quiet. Time and again
be pleaded with gestures, as he
stood at the top of the runway, for
silence, but the Nazis wouldn't quit
their bowling. So, finally, with a
shrug of his shoulders, as If to say,
"Oh, all right. the hell with you'll"
Owen crouched for his start. I re-
member turning to Ed Beattie, later
to become one of the greatest OF war
correspondents, and saying: =
ED, that Owen is gonna jump
clear over the pits"
He damn near did! He came
through with such q mighty leap.
that when he was in mid-air 1t
was obvious that he was sailing to
a worlds record. And the Ger
mans hushed up. And even Hitler
stood up in tribute when Owen
walked away from the pit.
The OIL typewriter was with me
that blistering day on the banks OF
Lake Carnegie in Princeton when
I was covering the finals of big
crew race. and my bride OF few
months gave a stirring exhibition
of why wives are not allowed in
press boxes. AS I write a running
race of the story, Western Union
operator leaned over my shoulder
and sent my words as fast as =. I
wrote them.
Twice, out of the corner OF my
eye, I saw my wife standing in the
aisle near me. grimacing horribly
as if in excruciating pain. Finally.
just before the boats reached the
finish line, her apparent suffering
drove me to abandon my work and
rush TO her side.
Whats the matter, honey?' I
asked with the alarm that only
the husband of a few weeks ca1
muster. Have you appendicitis?
Are you dying?"
There's nothing the matter with
me- she said. but I had to attract
your attention. That horrible man
sitting beside you is copying every
thing you write. Make him do has
own work. 1t isn't fair to you and
it isn't fair to him. He's cheat,
that's what he is"
The OIL typewriter was with me
the day the Office called me at a
restaurant and asked me how long
it would take me to get to Newark
and get aboard plane. There was
big story in New London, I was
told. I got to Newark in nothing
fiat, took off in ship, all set for
a short run from New York to
Connecticut. After three hours in
the air began to believe the pilot
! was lost.
ITS a hop, skip and a jump to
New London from New York" I
said.
That's right, Pal" the pilot an
l sWered, "but we're going to New
London, Tex. There's been some
sort of an explosion in a school,
| house"
The Of typewriter was with me
that night when the commanding
officer of the Portsmouth Naval Base
| had the dreadful task of reading the
| list of men rescued from the luckless
submarine Squalus to the women
and children gathered at the Navy
Yard, and then ending with these
words, Salvage operations have
been abandoned for the time being"
The oil typewriter was with me
when Schmelling dropped Louis on
the seat of his pants, and it was
with me the night when Louis
pinned the German to the ropes and
made him scream high falsetto of
pain with a full right smash to the
back.
It was with me on rescue boat
In the Mississippi hackwater when
we found family straddling the
ridge pole of cabin, with just their
heads above the water. 1t was there
that the head of the family, an old
grandpappy with whiskers that just
cleared the water, said something
I'll never forget. AS the rescue
boat drew alongside. he called:
II heard from fellow who drifted
by on log that the folks up the
river are catching hell"
Yep. the OIL Remington has been
around bit. But it likes action, so
I guess I'll let it go. But I want to
ask the man who gets it to please
do one thing:
Be gentle on the II" key, please.
1t has taken terrible beating