Radio Script Wins First Scholastic Writing Award
A 15-year-old Gonzaga High
sophomore won first prize in the
Scholastic Writing Awards Con
test, conducted in this area by The
Evening Star, with his first radio
drama script, it was announced
Thomas J. Walsh, son of Mr.
and Mrs. J. Herbert Walsh, 1747
Shepherd street N.W., won out
over more than 800 contestants in
the 21 fields of writing. Tom’s
script was entitled “The Emerald
Flame,” a story of St. Patrick and
the lighting of the first \fire on
Second place winner was Miss
Lorraine Glaberman, 17, daugh
ter of Mr. and Mrs. Irving H.
Glaberman, 757 Upsal street S.E.
Her prize entry was an essay, “A
Eulogy for Barbara.” Lorraine is
a senior at Anacostia High.
Tom received a portable type
waiter, presented by the Under
wood Typewrriter Co., and Lorraine
was given a fountain pen and
pencil set by the L. E. Waterman
Both Winners Surprised.
Both winners seemed surprised
at their selection. They said they
thought their other entries in this
and former contests were better
than the ones chosen.
“I entered a psychological
drama called ‘Janus Is a Two
faced God,’ ” Tom said, “and I
thought it was much better than
‘The Emerald Flame,’ which I
wrote when I was a freshman.”
Tom learned his script-writing
technique as a member of the Ra
dio Guild at Gonzaga. The guild,
composed of about 30 members, is
advised by Mr. Joseph Kerns, S.J.
“We have a half-hour weekly
program over WBUZ-FM and we
write scripts for it.” Tom explained.
He won a second prize at the
school in a writing contest with
the script that didn't win this
time. He also is active in the
school’s dramatic society and has
a supporting role in a production
of the group this wTeek.
Lorraine’s essay was inspired by
the death of a schoolmate.
Helped By Teacher.
“I almost didn’t enter it because
one of my teachers told me the
judges either w’ould like it a great
deal or dislike it tremendously,”
Lorraine said. However, she said
her teacher, Mrs. Agnes T. Beck
with helped her a great deal by
reading it and making comments.
Lorraine who is a member of
the Leaders Club, a school honor
ary society, and of the Debate
Club, and is an assistant editor of
the yearbook, The Totem Pole,
plans to study journalism at the
University of Maryland when she
is graduated next February.
“Who knows,” she said to a re
porter, “maybe I’ll have your job
on The Star someday.”
Last year one of Lorraine's
poems, “On Memories,” was
printed in the National Anthology
The final judges were more than
an hour deciding between the two
winning entries and “A New Face,”
1 ' ' ..
by Betty Jo Whitten of Washing
ton-Lee High School and “Globe
Trotters,” a sports story by Bill
McNaughton of Montgomery
Blair High School.
The preliminary judges for the
contest were Dr. John L. Lewis,
Wilson Teacher's College; Dr. Ivan
E. Taylor, Howard University:
Richard Finnegan, Catholic Uni
versity; Ferdinand Ruge, St. Al
ban’s and the following from the
editorial staff of The Evening
Star; John A. Cline, Francis P.
Douglas, Carter B. Jones, Ralph L.
McCabe. Charles M. Egan, Fletcher
Isbell, Newbold Noyes, jr.; Bel
mont Faries, Rex Collier, Wil
lian H. Harrison. Bill Coyle and
Howard P. Bailey.
The judges who considered the
final selections to select the first
and second-prize winners of the
entire contest were Dr. Rudd Flem
ing, Maryland University; Dr
Richard N. Foley, Catholic Uni
versity; Dr. Richard H. Moore,
George Washington University
and Dr. John Clendenin, American
A complete list of winners will
be printed in The Star tomorrow.
CONTEST PRIZE-WINNERS — Lorraine Giaberman, 17, of
Anacostia, winner of second prize, and first-place winner Thomas
J. Walsh, 15, of Gonzaga, look over their awards. The typewriter
was first prize. —Star Staff Photo.
Six Airmen Taken From Ice Floe
In Arctic Ocean Plane Rescue
By the Associated Press
ANCHORAGE, Alaska, Mar. 15.
—Six Air Force men were snatched
to safety from their floating camp
site 130 miles north of the tip of
Alaska in the Arctic Ocean Mon
day, the Alaskan Air Command
A big grinding iceberg which
looked like its nickname—Cathe
The camp—an experimental air
rescue station—had been estab
lished February 20 on a huge ice
Sunday the icepack and an ice
berg began to overlap, with huge
chunks being broken off. When
forced to depart, the men left
behind all but a very few items.
Some of the huts used as homes
on the floating island had been
damaged before a ski and wheel
equipped C-47 transport plane
picked up the men and took them
to Barter Island, on the North
Alaska coast, thence here.
Two of the eight men stationed
at the camp had been flown out
earlier on a resupply mission.
Personnel stationed at the “Polar
Air Force base” included:
Capt. M. F. Brinegar, Falls
City, Nebr.; Catholic Chaplain
Capt. Tom Cunningham, Little
Diomede Island. Alaska; T Sergt.
Keith R. Clemmons. Trenton,
Mich.: Sergt. Donald H. Gardner,
Clarendon, Pa.: Lt. Jesse F. Char
bula, Port Lavaca. Tex.; S Sergt.
Hubert B. Rooney, Norwood,
Mass.: Corpl. Joseph X. Gauthier,
Shrewsbury, Mass., and Corpl.
James F. Flannigan, Long Beach,
The Air Force did not disclose
which six were the last to be
plucked from their frigid floe.
The station was an experiment
to determine the feasibility of es
tablishing a semipermanent res
cue station in the polar area.
Ob ject to Princess
Visiting Pope Pius
By th« Associated Press
LONDON, Mar. 15.—A Prot
estant group campaigned today to
prevent Princess Elizabeth from
visiting Pope Pius XII when she
goes to Rome next month.
A similar campaign by the same
group—the National Union of
Protestants, numbering about 20,
000 members—did not deter Prin
cess Margaret from calling on the
Pontiff when she went to Rome
There has been no public an
nouncement that Elizabeth would
visit the Pope, but reports pre
dicting such a call have been car
ried in the British press.
The Protestant Union drew' up
a resolution yesterday declaring
that it would be “dangerous to
tije safety of the British Empire"
if the Princess were to visit the
“The union believes it is un
constitutional for a prospective
British monarch to have an audi
ence with the Pope,” the resolu
Second-Place Essay: A Eulogy for Barbara
This is the essay that took
second place in the Scholastic
Writing Awards contest:
By Lorraine Glaberman
It*s funny how you think about a
person after they’ve died: your im
pressions change and you suddenly
find yourself remembering the life
things they did or said. You say.
"Remember the time we did . . . She
said . . . Weren't we burned up!"
And so it goes, Barbara is dead.
As I write this now it seems al
most sacrilegious, for I believe in
heaven, and I believe that some
where in Eternity Barbara is looking
dowm and reading the words:
Barbara is dead. And I feel: How
does she think of them? Should I
witness a sort of shame in writing
this, to take advantage of a per
son's soul to put a few words down
As these sentences tumble out. I
can feel or think I feel a hole being
bored at the back of my neck, as if
I were being stared at, hard, bv a
pair of eyes. Until a short time
ago. I used to think of death as
something ouite beyond my reach,
something that was sad and tragic
in books, something that happened
to old people of whom it was always
said: “Ah well, she’s better off
where she is.” This was much dif
ferent. This was my friend, Bar
bara. She was 17.
The last time I saw Barbara was
at a sorority meeting. She was vi
vacious and boisterous as always
in a pair of dark slacks. Her hair
was long, just below her shoulders,
nor short and close to her head as
was the rest of the girls’. Her eyes
were big, black and so very dark,
and she was chewing gum. crack
ing it with every other breath. I
remember someone telling her she
looked like a street girl with her
mouth going a mile a minute but
she only laughed some more.
We were happy then: we planned
our coming dance with joyous ex
pectation, paid dues, delighted in
seeing people we hadn’t seen for
some weeks and decided to lecture
the pledges, who had been acting
very dumb and naive, at the next
meeting. When we left, we just
yelled a hasty “So long,” never
dreaming that we wouldn’t see Bar
bara again. At that same time the
next week, she w»as in the isolation
ward at a local hospital. We prayed
for her, half-heartedly, so sure that,
of course, she w'ould get better.
People we knew so well and so young
never died. They always recovered.
There were a few of us, Lois, Pau
line, Marlene, and I, her closet
friends who wanted more than any
thing to see her. It W'as impossible,
the hospital said; she was in isola
tion. But we went anyway.
It was Friday, a crisp cold sunny
Friday in December. The trees
were bare and the streets quiet,
for the children were at school. The
night before, we learned that Bar
bara had contracted pneumonia and
somehow we just couldn’t seem to
concentrate on our schoolwork. So
we went to the hospital. Lois came
by for me in the car about nine,
and we picked up the other girls.
It was very cold, or at least seemed
so. and the sun wasn't warm. It
seemed like a lump of cold, nard
gold. Yes, that’s the word to ex
plain it . . . hard. I hated to have
the sun on me that morning.
Driving to the hospital was a
dull, quiet affair. It wasn't at all
like the noisy Saturday afternoon
rides we used to take almost reli
giously. No one spoke except Lois,
who said “Damn” when a car, going
over the speed limit, brushed'
nervously near us.
w« parked on a vacant lot and
walked to the hospital. It was
large and sprawling and we didn't
know which building to turn to hrst.
We stood helplessly in the middle
of the long cement path, and the
four of us must have presented
a sorry sight, our hair disheveled by
the wind, our coats blowing out
behind us and a look of worry and
excitement on our faces. A nurse,
coming up the walk pointed out the
building we wanted but added
hastily. “You can’t go up there.”
We nodded and smiled agreeably,
waiting until she was out of sight
behind another building before con
tinuing on our way.
We went into the hallway, blink
ing our eyes to accustom them to the
dimness and looked around. There
was no one in sight, The hall was
emoty and, except for the strong
smell of antiseptic which hung thick
in the air, it seemed like any other
building at any other time. We saw
stairs to the side and a small sign
which told us the isolation ward was
on the second floor. The elevator
looked inviting to our tired feet, but
we didn't dare, for there was always
the chance of being caught and sent
out of the building. We trudged up
to the second floor and down a^ong
Lois said, “She's in 203.” None of
us ever questioned how* Lois knew
the room numbber. We didn't say a
word. When we got within a few
feet of the door and heard a move
ment inside, we were afraid to go
on. We were afraid to see Barbara,
how she looked and what condition
she was in. None of us said a word,
but the same thoughts, I am sure,
went through the minds of all of us.
Lois caught at my sleeve and pulled
“Come on,” she whispered "We've
come all the way for this. You don't
want to turn back now.”
She and I stepped in front of the
door while the others stood seveial
yards down the hall and looked in
the small window so typical of an
An iron lung stood against one
wall and we caught sight of Bar
bara's mass of dark hair. There
was a nurse feeding her through her
I wanted to knock on the window
and gain the nurse's attention,
thinking she might be liberal enough
to let us catch a glimpse of Bar
bara, but as my hand moved up
ward, a nurse came walking down
the corridor, her flat heels making
a series of soft thuds on the linoleum
floor. She was furious with anger,
and she sent us out of the building,
following us all the way to the door,
making sure we would not re-enter.
As we passed under Barbara’s
window, her nurse called softly to
us and asked if we were her friends.
To our affirmative answers, she
told us to stand a few feet back from
the building and she would hold a
mirror in front of Barbara so that
she could see us. She was very
We stood for a few seconds and
then Marlene called: “Does she
The nurse disappeared and then
returned. “Question’’ was all she
answered, letting us interpret it in
our own way. Soon she was bach
again and said, “Barbara thanks you
for coming.” That was all. She
closed the window. And the five of
us stood silently, unmoving, feeling
helpless ana young and ignorant.
Marlene pushed at a stone with
tiie toe of her shoe, and I saw there
were tears in her eyes. We moved
back to the car, dragging our feet,
and Lois and I told the others
what we had seen.
That day we stood in the bright
and yet cold sunshine, with so many
prayers for Barbara going throupi
our heads that quite suddenly and
unbelieveably my mind was a com
plete blank. It was so quiet. 1110
earth of the vacant lot was a dry
brownish color with tiny stubs ol
grass that seemed to be swept across
the held by the wind. All the leaves
had left the trees; all the life had
left everything. I think we must
have had a sense of utter helpless
ness, watching days go by, watch
ing an organism die, and knowing
there is nothing we could do
So the days passed. I don’t know
where they went, but suddenly we
were just on the brink of Christ
mas. And it w-ould be a good Christ
mas, for Barbara was getting bet
ter. Acquaintances of hers, people
who didn’t know her well thought
and said loudly and assuredly that,
of course, she would recover. There
was no doubt about it. Barbara
would get well.
And Barbara died on Christmas
night. When every one was full not
only with roast turkey and chestnut
stuffing, but with goodwill and good
cheer as well, Barbara passed away.
We never even knew either until the
next afternoon, so, of course, we
spent Christmas night in a buoyant
frame of mind, and this time Bar
bara was last in our thoughts.
Hadn’t she asked her mother when
she could come home, and hadn’t
she sent us a message thanking us
for the get-well cards we had sent?
I, who had never known a person
to die, now faced the thought of
lasing to God and Eternity one of
my best friends.
The grief of a mother can never
be measured. All of us, her friends,
relations and even mere acquaint
ances ielt helpless and so down
trodden at the funeral home. After
the services, as they carried the
casket to the waiting car, we girls
of the scrority lined up to form a
path. I remember feeling as if I
were standing in some ancient
Roman building with just high,
white pillars stretching up to the
sky and on all sides of me, as if I
were al! alone, watching the picture
of what was happening. I felt an
overwhelming desire, a terrible wish
to help Barbara's mother. I felt
overpowered by all the unknown and
mysterious sources of death around
Older people—they knew and un
derstood death. Perhaps they had
witnessed it; had seen their parents
and brothers or sisters die. How had
they felt upon seeing a loved one
consigned to the ground?
I have tried to ask myself, and I
have tried to ask God many times
| over—What could the death of a
! young girl have to justify in this
j world, where too many people are
living without a purpose and with
iout a goal? And to all these ques
; tions. how ever many times I may
ask them, there is only one answer:
It is not for me to say.
We ll probably always remember
; Barbara. Even now, almost one
year after she died, I sometimes
catch myself thinking of her at the
oddest moments—at a movie, laugh
ing at a joke some one told, just
falling off to sleep.
Barbara is a symbol; she is a sym
bol of all girls who died at seven
teen. She is a symbol to us, her.
friends, who now realize, young
though we are, we have many things
to accomplish before we, too, are
summoned to join the “innumerable
caravan.” But there are many peo
ple who will remember only too viv
idly and never forget the memory
of a plump, dark-haired girl, singing
lustily and living exuberantly. For
them, there is only time.
U. S. Army Once Small
At the time the Spanish-Ameri
can war broke out, the United
States Army consisted of only
2,000 officers and 25,000 men.
Franco Cracks Down
On General Strike
By the Associated Press
BARCELONA, Spain, Mar. 15.—
Some 50,000 workers in Catalonia's
Outlying industrial cities who left
their jobs three days ago protest
ing high living costs were expected
to end their general strike today.
The government cracked down
on the strikers with threats of
dismissal. The order said the
workers were to lose pay for time
spent on strike.
The strike was widespread in
surrounding districts, but 90 per
cent of the workers in Barcerona,
Spain’s second largest city, re
turned to their jobs yesterday.
Mayor Manresa warned that if the
remaining 10 per cent did not
show up today, they would be
fired. He told employers that if
they did not have enough man
power to operate, their businesses
would be closed indefinitely.
Arrests of demonstrators con
tinued in Barcelona, where al
ready 200 persons have been
imprisoned. Two persons were
killed and many were injured in
two days of disturbances.
U. S. Owns Hot Springs
HOT SPRINGS. Ark.—The hot
springs of Arkansas, 47 in num
ber, are Government owned and
Luxembourg Grants U. S.
Hamm Military Cemetery
By tht Associated Press
LUXEMBOURG. Mar. 15.—A
small parcel of the tiny Grand
Duchy of Luxembourg is to be
come virtually American soil
It is the military cemetery of
Hamm, near Luxembourg City
where Gen. George Patton and
6,000 American soldiers are buried.
A treaty will be signed here
Tuesday by Foreign Affairs Min
ister Joseph Bech and United
States Minister Perle Mesta. Un
der the treaty Luxembourg will
grant the United States a perma
nent and indefinite lease on the
territory of the Hamm Cemetery.
It provides for special tax exemp
tions and facilities for the Ameri
can personnel who will be brought
in to insure maintenance of the
Nat Cole's Home Seized
LOS ANGELES, Mar. 15 —
Internal Revenue agents yesterday
seized Musician Nat (King) Cole’s
$85,000 residence and big sedan
for non-payment of $146,000 in
taxes covering 1947-8-9. Neigh
bors protested when Cole bought
the house in the Hancock Park
region in 1948, but when the Su
preme Court outlawed race-re
stricting covenants the protests
Music Lessons on Television
Tried Here With Fine Results
Some 200 District school chil
dren have received their first les
sons in music via television.
School officials and Television
Station WNBW yesterday put on
the 45-minute TV class—the first
tried in the Washington area. It
was received by the pupils scat
tered in five elementary schools.
Everybody concerned pro
claimed the first TV classroom a
success. The experiment will be
continued weekly for the next
seven weeks. Youngsters par
ticipating will be tested at the
end of that time to see if the
classes are valuable enough to
Dr. Carl F. Hansen, associate
school superintendent, said tele
vision was no substitute for the
classroom teacher. He added:
“But, it can be used to bring
the skills of the music and art
teachers to every classroom in the
city. He learned from the first
lesson that the students do more
than watch the screen. They par
The teacher in this first experi
ment was Mrs. Emma Nauman of
the Patterson Elementary School.
Her sixth-grade class was at the
television studio in the Wardman
Park Hotel to furnish atmosphere
Other classes in the Cooke,
Murch, Takoma. Grant and Kings
man Elementary Schools took part
via television sets installed in their
The program was in two sec
tions—musical theory and singing
fallowed by 15 minutes of instruc
tion in how to play the flute. Miss
Helen Redfield. school specialist in
instrumental music, gave the flute
The music lesson telecast was
similar to a regular music lesson
given in the schools under normal
conditions with a few concessions
to the TV cameras trained on the
After a few minutes of flute in
struction, the students at the stu
dio and in the schools were able
to play “Mary Had a Little Lamb’*
well enough to recognize.
Billion Acres of Grass in U. S.
There are almost a billion acre*
of permanent grasslands in the
United States, mostly unimproved.
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