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Fly on
Confederate Flag-Jay
Vaquer
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- A few days ago, I received a copy of FOCUS, a Columbus College
Office of Institutional Advancement publication, seemingly aimed
at getting the alumni to donate money to the school. It
contained an article that looked back at Columbus College 30
years ago and asked for input from alumni. I attended C.C. from
fall 1966 to spring 1970 and again from fall 1974 to winter
1976. As a member of a highly discriminable minority, I
witnessed the triumph of the C.C. Rebel spirit overcome
prejudice, the birth of an alternative society, placing C.C. in
the mainstream of American education, and the cultural fruition
bringing C.C. to its zenith in the middle seventies. After
visiting the campus last quarter, I was saddened by not finding
a booming university, but instead, a regressed Cody Road High.
- I was born to an Army officer in West Virginia and raised on
military bases in Kentucky, Missouri, and Stuttgart, Germany. At
around 5 years old, one of the first books I read was "Lil
Black Sambo". I can still recall the emotional vicarious
excitement of going into the jungle and confronting those
tigers. I had been in the woods alone many times and knew the
fear of confronting a strange animal, but a man-eating tiger was
really scarey. Then Sambo made them turn into butter. That just
blew my mind, the only thing I knew to do was run, hide, or
climb a tree and the tiger would get me in any case. But, there
was some super power involved which Sambo possessed, and I did
not. And talk about fortitude, he even carried the butter home
and ate it for breakfast. Lil Black Sambo was my first super
hero. A few weeks after reading the book, I was riding in the
back of the family station wagon when my sister pointed out a
Black father and young son waiting to cross the street. I looked
into the boys bright eyes and felt great admiration and respect
for him. I knew he was like Sambo and I wanted to get out of the
car and give him a hug, but as the traffic light changed, we
drove off, and I waved good-bye. This was my first experience
with the Black race. My mother always sent us to private
Catholic schools near the military bases and we had no Black
students.When I got to high school in Germany, we had several
Black students and two of them were my friends. I was
quarterback and I had a tall end and a strong halfback that I
could count on to make the play or die trying. They were better
athletes than their White counterparts. I must have
subconsciously known they possessed some of that Sambo power
because I liked and respected both of them.
- When we studied the Civil War in high school, I thought it was
like studying any other historical event and the past was over.
I thought racism, prejudice, and the KKK ended with the Civil
War. When my father got transferred to Fort Benning, we left
Germany on a ship, the Geiger, which docked in Brooklyn and we
drove to Georgia. As I entered North Carolina, an overpass had a
large KKK sprayed in red paint and I sensed a fear. My family
had gone ahead of me in the wagon and I was in my new Triumph
TR-4. I stopped to get something to eat and got my first taste
of Southern fried ignorance and prejudice. These guys wanted to
beat me up because I had long hair and drove a foreign car.
Things did not change when I got to Columbus. Nearly everywhere
I went somebody would say " Is that a boy or a girl"
or " should I kiss him or kick his ass". My Dad
suggested I take my sister to a pool party at the officers club
and make new friends. About 10 guys forced me into the locker
room where one of them tried (in vain) to kick my butt as the
others watched. This direct physical threat for having an
"out of norm" appearance was most definately
high-grade discrimination.
- My first day at Columbus College was equally shocking. I came
to school in jeans, a t-shirt and sandals. I was the only male
student with long hair. President Whitley was trying to pass a
dress code with men wearing coats and ties, even though many
students wore them anyway. Most students were wearing the latest
college fashions. The girls snickered at me, half the guys
wanted to kick my butt, and the other half would give me
disapproving looks then ignore me. The instructors also had
negative reactions. Mr. Battle was teaching American Government
and I was humiliated at every opportunity. Coach Ragsdale would
not let me on the tennis team unless I cut my hair. I told my
Dad I did not want to stay in Columbus and wanted to go to
Morgantown, where my oldest sister, Jana (who recently acquired
a Ph.D. at Manila) was attending West Virginia University. Dad
said he was going to the war in Viet Nam and wanted me to be the
man of the family and take care of my Mom and younger sisters.
As a reward, he would send me to Brazil for a vacation when he
returned. I decided I could pay the price for my rebellious
nature and freedom of expression, and deal with it, not unlike a
crusader in a war zone.
- I went to the Teen Club at Ft. Benning and met two more
"freaks"- Herb and Mike Guthrie. Their father had just
been transferred here from Augsburg, Germany and they were both
musicians. Since I played guitar in Germany, we formed a rock
band called The Bitter End and I convinced Herb to enroll at
C.C. for winter quarter. The nucleus of our "Alternative
Society" was formed by military brats. Bruce Preston (now a
dentist in Atlanta), Manfred Rackow, Danny Henderson (Gary
Burnettes predecessor as bassist for The Bitter End and later
Arnold Bean) , Herb Guthrie and myself, now had our own table in
the cafeteria. Located under the gym next to the Blacks table.
With few exceptions, the only people who treated us like people
were the Blacks, both in and out of school. They got some
satisfaction in seeing the rednecks treat somebody else worse
than them. Maybe empathy. At any rate, our table was the spot to
hear all that rebellious anti-government , anti-establishment,
anti-war, anti-discrimination, or any anti-injustice reportage.
By spring quarter our table had grown to two side by side. We
welcomed anyone with an open mind. After learning of the
presence of a freak faculty member, Will Hipps, most of us
changed our major to Art and began to feel like, now, we were
part of the school and not just some ostracized lepers . Mr.
Hipps let our band practice in the art studio. We adopted the
schools Confederate Rebel to represent us. After all, we were
Rebels too, emulating the great American Rebels like George
Washington or Thomas Paine with issues in our time line. We
vehemently opposed killing Americans in Viet Nam for Lady Bird
to augment her hat collection. Racism had nothing to do with our
Neo-Rebels, we were against the system that infringed on the
constitutional right to liberty and happiness. We participated
in school pep rallies waving the Confederate flag, beating the
battle drum, and shouting that Rebel yell. One Black student
would wear a complete Confederate uniform to lead cheers. Our
platform was secure and we began to spread quickly. Our
lunchroom tables were now visited by other faculty members and
students wishing to express their views of the impending,
paradigm shifting, cultural revolution of the Sixties. Bobby
Peters, now the Columbus mayor, associated with us because we
did not care if he dyed his hair blond-he had more fun. Bobby
Jones, now a Columbus attorney, came up to me one day and said
he thought like I did, and he would be a freak, except his Dad
was paying for his school and would not allow him to openly defy
traditional values or the U.S. government. C.C. turned out to
have more closet freaks than expected. Girls even began to sit
at our table which was totally integrated. The only real
prejudice felt was against the Japanese for their sneak attack
at Pearl Harbour and the atrocities committed against U.S.
prisoners of war. They betrayed us, demonstrated a complete lack
of respect for Americans, Black and White, ignored the
international rules of war, and mocked planetary parameters of
human decency. If they attack us again, I will fly the Enola Gay
and press the button. Our Alternative Society wanted world
controlled population with equal distribution of the earths
resources. Every living human being is entitled to food, water,
a home, health care, and education. These were the inalienable
rights and using our democratic capitalist system, anyone could
attain their individual goals. We believed world peace would be
achieved when everyone had the same rights as everyone else. Our
Rebel spirit was high enough to make the personal sacrifices
necessary to expound our doctrines. We had to show the empowered
generation that being led to meaningless destruction was not
part of our American dream. Yes, we were Rebels, engaged in
daily battle with mainly White provincial southerners that could
not accept the fact that now, we too were southerners, the new
generation southern Rebels, with a more accurate view of
reality. We come in peace, we mean you no harm. But, why is your
world chaotic.
- As the war in Viet Nam escalated, so did the troop movement at
Ft. Benning. On the positive side it meant economic boost, more
students, new buildings, more Ph.D.s in the faculty and more
freaks. On the down side, it meant a constant flow of drugs from
all over the world and unprecedented violence. Take a young farm
boy from Iowa, train him to kill, send him to Viet Nam where he
is subjected to the horrors of war, becomes a drug user, and
then, with no re-socialization, is transferred to Ft.Benning and
we had to deal with him." Hey man, I used to play in Iron
Butterfly, here, eat this acid I got in Saigon". Many
psychos were attracted to the freaks. The love and peace hippies
were about to erupt on a global scale and our slur changed from
freak to hippie. I never thought of myself as a hippie since I
failed to meet all the criteria. I was not a runaway, I was in
school, and I took baths. However, new freaks, ex-G.I.s, began
to associate with us, but shared different views on how to deal
with the issues.We were non violent, but these freak Vets wanted
to kill and blow things up. We also had no racial problem at
C.C. in 1968 until the Black radicals arrived. They told our
Black friends that they were Toms for hanging out with us and
they did not need us anyway. They talked about Black Panthers
that did not agree with Rev.M.L. King Jr. They convinced the
religious groups on campus that the Confederacy was offensive
and they wanted to delete any Confederate association from the
school. This was the beginning to the end of Rebel spirit and a
return to racism, with a new source, Blacks against Blacks and
Whites. After some members of the S.D.S (Students for a
Democratic Society) came down from Atlanta and spray painted
graffiti on the library walls, many students were frightened and
they voted to change our mascot to the Cougar. Like a panther,
its image was very neutral, safe, banal, and insipid. It sucks.
Why was Howard Beeth late with his seminar in Afro-American
culture and then politically driven from the faculty at C.C. How
could so many people not understand the relevance of the
Confederacy and the need to preserve it. When something is not
right, you need that Rebel yell, "Hey, what the hell do you
think youre doing" See the Confederacy without the slavery
issue. Mission Improbable. The freaks were outraged and
outnumbered.
- Dad, who had served in World War 2 and Korea, came back from
Viet Nam. He said this war was a joke and did not blame me for
not wanting to go. He sent me to Brazil for vacation. It was
cool... pretty girls, beaches and servants. I returned and began
making plans to take my band there if the war did not end.
- Fortunately, the new Fine Arts Hall was completed and became
our sanctuary. Listening to Jimi Hendrix and working on Art
projects in the afternoons was a gift from God. Our band would
perform on the new stage and we let other students sit in. The
Fine Arts Hall became the cultural hot spot of the south. Many
great artists like Lloyd McNeil and Lou Stovall came to share
their art and influenced many students profoundly. Bruce Preston
even transferred to U G A in Athens for a degree in graphic Arts
after watching Stovall silk screen. After Woodstock, the
underground became mainstream. Kids and television stars had
long hair and waved peace signs of love. Even Coach Ragsdale
grew his hair out of that buzz cut. The freaks had been
assimilated and everyone spoke of peace. It was 1970, my 2-S
deferrment was about up, there was no end to the war in sight,
so I left C.C. with our band, for Rio de Janeiro. That was
another story.
- Four years later, I came home and enrolled at C.C. as a full
time student. The school was even more impressive than I
imagined. To land a musician the caliber of Paul VanderGheynst
was unbelievable. The Art Department even had 500 level courses
in film making. People like Gene Roddenberry came to the Fine
Arts Hall. John Cage performed his prepared piano. The school
even had a jazz band. I was really excited. C.C. had finally
made it to the big time. We were nationally recognized as a
cultural center in the south. Mary Blackmon let me practice with
the tennis team, long hair and all. Bjorn Borg was to freak
tennis what Arthur Ashe was to Black tennis. Richard Pryer
released an L.P. of jokes called "That Niggers Crazy"
and all the Black kids called each other nigger. I was delighted
to see another barrier dropped. The colloquiality of the term
dissipated its racial severity. I was busy with my
cinematography class when tragedy struck. The C.C. jazz bands
keyboard player, Jeannine Galloway, was tragically raped and
murdered by a Black psycho. Jeannine was very beautiful with
long blond hair and wire rimmed glasses. She had that freak
chick look. When she played the electric piano with the band ,
you could close your eyes and think Herbie Hancock was up there.
She was a great musician and an inestimable loss to our society.
- The USA was finally defeated in their war effort. They
apologized and granted amnesty. There was no pleasure in our
victory since now we had thousands of drugged psychos on the
streets and thousands of wounded Vets with inadequate medical
attention. I was on the next plane back to Brazil where the
Rebel spirit was thriving. After spending the next four years in
Rio, I moved to Hollywood, California. I would come home to
visit my parents and go to C.C. to play tennis. In the fall of
1994, I went to the Fine Arts Hall to see my friend, George
Goddard. I expected to find a video production facility doing a
cable T.V. show or a C.C. radio station. George told me that
after a student dropped one of the 16mm Bolex cameras in a lake,
and the other one got run over by a Mack truck, the school
dropped all the film making classes. He told me about the
hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of video equipment locked
up in media services that no one ever used, or will use, showed
me the outdated computers in the classrooms, and said they hoped
to convert one of the darkrooms into a graphic computer lab. I
was stunned that 20 years ago C.C. offered more than now. I went
to a free jazz band concert that night. I was really surprised
to see Tom Chadwick and Edward Robinson up there playing with
the band just like 20 years ago when pop music peaked with jazz
fusion.Chick Corea and Return to Forever, Weather Report, Billy
Cobham and the other greats from the seventies were now replaced
with rap. Where were the new generation players.
- The next day I went to the tennis courts and Skeeter said he
was the latest coach and was expecting some players from South
Africa in January. In the spring of 1995, I went back to the
courts to pick up a game with the new talent. Again I was
shocked when Skeeter told me I could not play with them until
the season was over. I had practiced with Mary Blackmons teams,
O.L. Gilstraps, Julie Holtzingers.and Roger Pierces. I thought
if I could not play with these South Africans, and they were not
going to bring Jonathan Butler here to perform, then why not
send them home and take that money to implement an elementary
school tennis program creating local players. Last year the
Ledger-Enquirer printed more information on Brookstones tennis
team than Columbus Colleges.
- Either the couch potato generation of the eighties or the
apathetic generation of the late seventies is responsible for
our current de-evolutionary state. Racism has again reared its
ugly head with Black activists being the most prejudiced. Last
week they said they want O.J. Simpson as a role model. He did
publicly humiliate, beat, terrorize, and stalk his late wife.
Why not select Attila the Hun. Blacks in America do not need
Black leaders. They do more harm than good. I would have thought
the KKK took Lil Black Sambo from the library instead of the
NAACP. They dont want young impressionable White kids to have a
positive image of Blacks. There is a major difference between a
30 year old Black activist and a five year old White boy
interpreting literature. Men like Arthur Ashe and Colin Powell
are role models for every living human. Race does not enter the
equation. Perhaps an alien invasion from space will make people
realize we are the Human Race first of all, then Americans, and
lastly Irish-American or Afro-Americans or whatever.
- When I travel to another part of the United States or a
foriegn country, they always ask where I went to school. When I
say Columbus College, they look at me like I had said Mabel
Baily College or Meadows College. I say my home is Georgia and I
am proud to say I am a new southerner. The Rebel spirit from the
sixties will be a part of me the rest of my life. I wave the
Confederate flag high because it represents the freedom to stand
up against any injustice, even the Federal governments. Our
Alternative Society was pristine, free of racism, irrationality
or counter-productivity. As we enter the millennium I hope to
find Columbus College with a new generation of motivated
students and a new name. The University of Georgia at Columbus.
A.k.a. the UGAC REBELS.
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