'WATCH OUT FOR ELMER'
In high school football circles in the Shenandoah Valley this fall the grapevine word is, "Watch out for Elmer"—Elmer Lam, that is, of Elkton High. And the chances are good that, as you read this, college football scouts are packing valises (and carpetbags) for reconnaissance missions into the valley. Wedged between the Blue Ridge and Massanutten mountains of Virginia, they will find the town of Elkton (pop. 1,500). And in Elkton, living on the lip of a rock quarry with the sifting limestone dust and his widowed grandmother, is Elmer. And Elmer can play football in that valley about as well as Stonewall Jackson could whip Yankees.
Not that Elmer Roy Lam, a well-rounded boy, makes anything big out of football. When autumn comes to Elkton he just plays. And the 124 points he has scored or set up in the first five games for Elkton High this year are merely what comes of his playing. Other times he is fully concerned with the other particulars of his 18-year-old, 6-foot 1-inch, 165-pound existence. Elmer's steady girl friend, Jo Ann Monger, is a cheerful cheerleader who lets Elmer buy her Pepsi-Colas and hamburgers after school. She wears his class ring (size 9½) on her size 6 finger, and he wears hers on a chain. Elmer maintains a good B average so he can go to college next fall (Elmer and two girls are all there is to French II at Elkton). And he is assistant business manager of the yearbook and president of the Monogram Club. He has also lettered in track, baseball and basketball.
Last year there were 15 on the Elkton High football squad. This year, two days before the opener with a 36-man team from Winchester, there were only 10—and four of those were converts from the marching band. Coach Gene Giuseppe had to make a room-to-room appeal to fill out the squad. But Halfback Lam tossed four touchdown passes over the heads of Winchester, ran one himself and kicked five extra points. The final score was 35-0. The next opponent, Strasburg, duly warned, smothered Elmer's receivers; so Elmer ran for three touchdowns and kicked two points to make it 32-0. The next week against Dayton it was 41-0, only this time Elmer scored all the points. "I couldn't have done it without the blocking," he said. Perhaps the scouts should look the whole team over.
CHAMPAGNE AND TWEED AT BELMONT
The $150,000 Champagne Stakes at New York's Belmont Park, won last Saturday by First Landing with Eddie Arcaro up, is a time-honored exhibition of the best of the country's 2-year-olds. Coming as it does at first-frost time, it is also a moment when the casual camera can catch the fall clothes that are succeeding most impressively. The chatelaines of Turf and Field Club boxes put their stamp on a new line, a trend, a mode as they move from grandstand to paddock under Belmont's dappling oaks, carrying with them the authority of the unmistakably well dressed. One of the most striking of them all is Mrs. Henry Ittleson Jr. (left). She was first photographed by SPORTS ILLUSTRATED at Belmont four falls ago, as was Mrs. Charlton Henry (below). Then, as now, their preference for the races was tweed, but tweed worn with a difference, turned and tailored in a new fashion by the couturier's hand. This year's tweeds reflect the shapes of this season's fashion: large collars, often lavishly fur-trimmed; capes and jumpers; abbreviated jackets and the high waist of the Empire line.
Mrs. John A. Morris wears mink-collared, abbreviated Persian lamb jacket, matching pillbox with tweed dress. Colors of husband's racing stables are one of the country's oldest.
Mrs. W. Horace Schmidlapp's tweed tunic-jumper is worn over knit dress. Costume was designed by Guy Laroche.
Laura Leonard, in paddock with Robert Strawbridge of Philadelphia, wears a great cape with great collar of red Shetland tweed.
Mrs. Charlton Henry's walking Suit is of black-and-blue tweed with yoke repeating curve of the dramatic collar.
Autumn on the vast golden prairies of Saskatchewan is a time of harvest and of plenty. Farmers work long days in the fields of yellow wheat, combines rumble along endless swaths of new-cut grain and ducks stir restlessly on watery sloughs and potholes. Once again, in the largest waterfowl nesting area in the world, the great migration south begins, repeating an ageless cycle of flight and return. Millions of mallards, teals, pintails and baldpates lift skyward, leaving behind until spring the plains and marshes of their birth. And as they wing across Saskatchewan's 125,000 square miles of duck-shooting country, hunters like those shown here will reap still another of autumn's bountiful harvests.
Retrieving a bird, Jill, a 3-year-old yellow Labrador, paddles through the weed-filled waters of a slough near Wynyard, Sask.
Receiving reward for a job well done, Jill is praised by owner and ardent Saskatchewan hunter Dr. E. G. DeMots of Minot, N.D.
Returning triumphant through a field of new swath and stubble, hunters Jim Lentz (left) of Bradenton, Fla., Barry Carson of Wynyard, Dr. DeMots with Jill, and Alfred Cochlan of Wynyard tote morning's bag after shoot.
Relaxing in comfort over hunters' breakfast and tall tales are E. L. Paynter, the province's Director of Wildlife (left), Wayne Miller and Jack Needham of Wynyard, Dr. DeMots, Harold Pope of Wynyard and Al Cochlan.
A CHAMPION RETURNS TO ST. ANDREWS
Just 28 years ago, on his way to an unparalleled sweep of the Open and Amateur golf titles of Britain and the U.S., an engaging young fellow from Georgia named Robert Tyre Jones met and memorably conquered the Old Course at St. Andrews, Scotland.
Last week Bob Jones, 56 and hobbled with a spinal ailment that bars him from active golf, returned to Scotland as nonplaying captain of the U.S. team in the first world amateur team championships ever held. St. Andrews responded by conferring on Jones "the Freedom of the City and Royal Burgh," an honor which includes the right to dry his laundry on the sacred Old Course if he cares to. Last American comparably honored: Benjamin Franklin in 1759.