"Triple Sticks" is what we called Dr. Bob Jones III. Because (you see it, don't you?) he had three sticks after his name. He was, of course, a celebrity to the undergraduates. At least the ones who had been successfully brainwashed . . . oh, was that too sarcastic? I had a few face-to-face encounters with him.
I had the privilege of eating at the Joneses' house one semester when I was president of CRC*. I remember almost nothing about this. All the other student organization presidents/vice presidents were there and we ate on some kind of porch. It was raining and I was the first one there . . . actually, the only one on time. While being late may have been cooler, Beneth was the maven of manners; on my mother's recommentdation, I arrived not more than 5 minutes before the stated time.
*Community Relations Council**
**Just now, going there for the link, I see that the name is changed to Community Service Council. And, if you have the time, look at the goals. I might not have noticed otherwise, but here's something Camille talks about: they want to improve the reputation of the University; it's not about bringing glory to God. It's about them and the way they're perceived first. I mean, not that I had any idea of any kind of goal at that time other than to hang out with the cool kids in the Activites & Organizations office to all hours of the night.
During the semester I was president of CRC, the "student leaders" ate with Dr. Bob once a month or something. I remember doing it at least twice, so maybe it was once a semester, and I went once when president elect and once when president. We usually got our food and then went upstairs to "the blue room" or somewhere like that. We were so cool and elite. And after one of these lunches, Dr. Bob himself took my tray to the tray return.
The Joneses hosted a senior dinner thing at their house (on the lawn, catered by the dining common or maybe by some bar-b-que place). I went twice, even though I was only invited once (I had two senior fall semesters, remember?). I went the first year (the year I wasn't invited)because everyone I knew was going; everyone I had started with 4 years before. You could wait in line to 'greet' Dr. Bob and get your picture taken with him. I almost made it into the yearbook; the picture that was published showed someone else talking to him, and my friend and I were standing in the line. You could walk through their house (Jones III, not Jones Jr.). That was not at all strange. (maybe I'll find pictures)
And of course, he handed me my diploma.