Word: herefords
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...designed in the early 19th century by Thomas Jefferson, who also founded the university. Some of Virginia's most prominent citizens are, or have been, members of both institutions. In fact, 150 of the school's faculty and staff currently belong to Farmington, including President Frank L. Hereford Jr., 52. But in one area, the college and the club differ completely. The University of Virginia admits and is actively recruiting blacks; Farmington does not accept blacks as either members or guests. Last week, after members had voted overwhelmingly to continue the club's restrictive policies, Hereford...
Racial Policy. Hereford's troubles began after he became president in September 1974. Unlike his predecessor, Edgar F. Shannon Jr., Hereford refused demands that he renounce his Farmington membership. An internationally known physicist and longtime Virginia professor, Hereford is by no means a racist. By staying in the club and lobbying for admission of blacks, he insisted, he could do more good than by resigning. His argument: "A change in Farmington would help to change the setting in which the university exists. This isn't an ideal community for blacks, but I'm trying to make...
Finally, at the urging of Hereford and others, Farmington's management in December decided to poll the 3,867 members on the club's racial policy. The questionnaire ignored the subject of membership, asking only if blacks should be admitted to the club as guests. The answer, by a 2-to-1 vote...
...long suit is small talk, the simple, spontaneous gesture. On a visit to the Oklahoma State Fair, she took cotton candy, stroked a prize Hereford on the head and rode the merry-go-round, saying, "This is part of the American spirit-you don't need much to be happy." Is she happy? someone dared ask the First Lady. "Yes, I am. I've got the greatest guy in the world." Presented with a sunbonnet, she put it on and kept it on all the way back to Washington, ex plaining whimsically: "I think this is the real...
...Ireland her own. It might be called County Farce. It lies just this side of the Dire Straits, along the border of Blarney. It is peopled with grotesques, inanimate as well as animate: crumbling mansions where the plumbing has a will-but not a constitution -of iron; a Hereford bull that for reasons of its own sits down in a kitchen, blockading the stove; an alcoholic postman who carelessly stuffs mail into a tree stump, then thinks to bring the practice into line with regulations by carving the words post box in the bark...