diesel train now thundering along the tracks below. The mangled desk was relegated overnight to the corner of the room, where for the remainder of the semester, it emanated the mystical ambiance of some great battlefield relic.

The last time I saw Coach Jones was in the summer of 1969, when I brought a college roommate to visit my Alma Mater. As we drove on campus I immediately spotted Coach Jones walking from Main toward Ragsdale Hall. "There's the guy I've been telling you about!" I exclaimed as I bounded from my 1941 Chevy to greet Coach. Coach grabbed, instead of my out-streched hand, the shoulder length hair on the back of my head. He drew my face to his and grimaced as he beheld with mock horror my hippie-like appearance. His absolute disdain was epitomized in the only word he uttered as he lowered the back of my head to the pavement "yuck."

I do not know if it was by divine appointment or the