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HSU Cowgirls mostly history, but 'Stomp' is still afoot

By BILL WHITAKER

When Hardin-Simmons University freshmen piled into Behrens Chapel last week to learn campus tradition, they discovered that while it may not be OK to dance, it's sure OK to "stomp."

In fact, they got a vivid lesson in stomping from the lass who brought that tradition to The Forty Acres 70 years ago - Glenna Frame of Abilene.

During colorful frosh orientation ceremonies last week, Glenna, still nimble at 90, led surviving members of the HSU Cowgirls out onto the stage and promptly set about doing what is called "The Cowgirl Stomp."

Not "dance," mind you - good Baptists would never tolerate that - but "stomp."

"Actually, we started line-dancing way back then," Glenna said, reflecting on the routine she and her "girls" did. "We just didn't know it!"

Whatever it was, Glenna is credited with inventing the Cowgirl Stomp in 1927, a few years after the HSU Cowgirls were created as a spirited drill organization for girls. Although the Cowgirls went into decline and vanished with the rise of sororities in the 1970s, it was once a force to be reckoned with.

In fact, Glenna likes to imagine that the Cowgirls once gave members of the HSU Cowboy Band fits, so perfect were they in competing for the spotlight the colorful band has so long loved to hog. During parades of yesteryear, the Cowgirls followed behind the band, nipping at their heels.

"Everytime the Cowboy Band marched, we were right behind 'em," Glenna said, "so we take a lot of credit for their world fame today as a great marching band."

STEP BY STEP

The Cowgirls organization may be a thing of the past, but former members enjoy occasional gatherings and even consent to perform the Cowgirl Stomp on occasion. Such an occasion arose last week, and every indication was the students enjoyed it, especially upon learning Glenna, their leader, was 90.

Students arose cheering when the Cowgirls strolled onto the stage. They remained standing throughout the Cowgirls' routine, done to the tune of "The Old Gray Mare."

All of which touched Glenna Frame mightily.

"She's proud of it, but she's also very modest," explained Katherine Ricks, an HSU Cowgirl who graduated in '41. "She has meant so much to the Cowgirls. One morning we rehearsed for this and, well, we weren't sure she'd be able to come because she had been feeling a little tired.

"But she came. I don't think she could resist."

Of course, several of the graying women in the former Cowgirls organization have been finding it a bit more tiring than once upon a time. Prior to their rehearsal last week, one of the women breathlessly approaching the stage insisted she'd be fine "if I can just get up these steps."

And when good-humored Bee Shackelford, HSU class of '41, arrived on the scene, dressed in her Cowgirl duds, she jokingly explained her slightly unkempt appearance to Cowgirl sisters as such: "I don't have a waist anymore, so I don't tuck anything in anymore."

EGGS IN HAIR

During a break in rehearsals, I heard many colorful stories about Cowgirls through the years. More than anything, though, I learned that girls at HSU would do most anything to get into the Cowgirls organization.

More than one told me if they had not gotten into the organization, they might have quit HSU.

Bobbie McKinnon, who entered HSU in the 1930s, still has a newspaper clipping about a formal tea held for prospective Cowgirls (who had to be at least sophomores). Out of the 125 hoping to get into the organization that year, only 21 were notified by Dr. Rupert Richardson they had passed muster.

Vangie Reiff Newman, class of '57, assured me her pledge week activities to get into the Cowgirls were daunting. She had to do no less than wear a tow sack for clothing, hang garlic around her neck, lather raw eggs into her hair for the duration and not talk to any boys all during the pledge period.

Being the daughter of then-HSU President Evan Allard Reiff didn't protect her from the humiliation all pledges had to suffer.

"I remember we sat in chapel one day and I had two big ol' football players sitting next to me, and they gave me all kinds of trouble because I stunk so bad," Vangie said. "And I couldn't say a word because I wasn't allowed to talk to boys.

"I couldn't even answer the phone!"

Speaking of the phone, columnist Bill Whitaker has a new, supposedly improved phone number for any and all inquiries, bribes, column suggestions and other sundry nonsense: 676-6732.

 

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