My Father and Great Grandfather went to the Parade

New Bern was a quiet place 93 years ago. It was the kind of place where you sat on the porch and talked with your neighbors. Kind of like Facebook without electricity. Well any kind of "goings on" provided a diversion. When my dad was a child (early twenties) there was a parade scheduled downtown. His grandfather agreed to walk the five blocks to where they could view the marching. Turns out it was a Klan Parade. Don't misunderstand they did not attend to support or endorse the organization. It was out of curiosity and seeking entertainment they viewed the processation.

As they watched my father asked his grandfather who the people with the hoods were? Granddaddy Bud started naming names. Puzzled my Dad asked him how he knew.  He responded, "son everyone is so poor they only have one pair of shoes".

How to Sweat a Knob

When Vice President Ford visited the Citadel to receive an honorary degree March 15, 1974 he ate lunch with the Corps of Cadets. As a member of H Company our table was very close to the Regimental Commander's. Visiting dignitaries would sit there and we would always have a great view when they spoke at lunch.

When you assemble an entire Corps of Cadets for a meal at one time you can expect some mischief. One of the favorite pranks was to create a gutter with the clear plastic covers that the kitchen staff used to cover the table cloths. Once you and your accomplices had formed the gutter a senior would pour southern sweet tea down the gutter. The gutter would end at the lap of an unsuspecting cadet who was engaged in conversation with someone at the other end of the table. It was always fun to watch their reaction when a half a pitcher of tea hit their lap. It became my custom to cut the plastic verticly on either side of my seat to protect my pants.

Another prank often perpetrated was to send a knob (freshman) with a bottle of ketchup to wipe out the shoes of someone on the other end of the table. When the crawling knob would tap on the leg of the senior on the opposite end of the table he would grant access to the freshman. Each mess mate at the table would cooperate to allow the stealthy knob to reach his target. Once the shoes had been properly shined with Heinz the process would reverse and the knob would return to his seat. A note would be passed to the Regimental Adjutant to announce the deed. At the end of his announcement he would say "so and so" please look at your shoes. The Corps would have a great laugh. The target would normally be a senior cadet or perhaps an alumni commissioned officer.

At a place like the Citadel proving ones manhood (or courage since women have been admitted) has always been important. A freshman who carried out a successful mission was looked upon favorably.

During lunch on March 15, 1974, I looked at a knob at my table, slammed a bottle of ketchup in front of him and commanded that he wipe out the Vice President's shoes. He froze with a look of absolute terror. Instantly beads of perspiration formed at each pour of his face. It was quite something to see. You could tell that a terrible debate was occurring deep within his soul. He was trying to decide if he wanted to face me or certain death at the hands of the Secret Service. If he had picked up the bottle he would have turned the tables on me. I would have had to tackle him to prevent the Secret Service from shooting him. I really wouldn't get a knob killed but he wasn't sure. I wish I knew who that member of the class of 1977 was.

Anyway that was my favorite way to sweat a knob.

Gary Barker
Citadel '76

Commander Coussons and my friend Mike

Early in our knob (plebe) year at The Citadel, one of our history professors became ill. Commander Coussons, later a Captain in the USN Reserves filled in for Lt. Col. Phillips. The Commander was one of those larger than life kind of guys that you just had to give your full attention. To my knowledge he had three passions. The History of the British Navy, Confederate Army and sport of sailing.

Cmdr. Cousins served as the sailing coach at the Citadel in the early seventies. Lt. Col. Phillips had a seating chart that was arranged alphabetically. On his first day substituting the Commander reviewed the seating chart to familiarize himself with the class. When he saw my name and hometown, New Bern, NC he inquired if I knew how to sail. I answered affirmatively and earned a place on the Sailing Team. His knowledge of my hometown was due to the history of the Battle of New Bern during The War of Northern Aggression.

The Commander had a booming authoritative voice that instilled awe in the mind of sleep deprived freshman. A sophomore could inspire fear so you can't imagine the effect that a three stripe Naval Officer had on a young 18 year old who had just survived hell week. In those days, not all of the classrooms at The Citadel were air conditioned. Windows opened, fan purring, warm temperature and lack of harassing upper class men create an environment that could induce a young knob to nod off. We all watched as my friend Mike began to lose consciousness. He sat on the other side of the room on the front row because his surname began with "S".

Mike's chin finally rested squarely on his chest when Coussons took notice. He checked the seating chart and boomed, "Mr. Sherman you are at enough of a disadvantage with a name like yours, to not be sleeping in my class". All of the southerners in the class almost fell out of their chairs. Mike being a Yankee probably did not understand the reference. He was so startled, I am sure he lost several years of longevity.