Last-second costumes? We’ve got you covered
Ghost experts uncover the South’s paranormals
Knoxville cupcakery has hauntingly tasty treats, discounts for loyal customers
ARTS & CULTURE >>pg. 7
NEWS >>pg. 3
Stokes ‘pretty scared’ of new defensive rules this season
ARTS & CULTURE >>pg. 6
SPORTS >>pg. 8
Thursday, October 31, 2013
Issue 49, Volume 124
Volunteers improve APR, avoid penalties David Cobb Sports Editor Derek Dooley excelled at teaching players personal hygiene during his time at UT, but the performance of his teams on the field and in the classroom left issues for Butch Jones. Less than 10 months into his tenure as Dooley’s successor, Jones announced Tuesday that the Academic Progress Rate of UT’s football program is no longer an issue. “I think it is probably one of the greatest victories that we have had in Tennessee football,” Jones said Tuesday of UT’s progress in the APR, which is a metric developed to track the academic achievement of teams each academic term. During Dooley’s tenure from 2010-12, UT’s football APR number fell from 937 to 924, which placed the Vols at risk of ineligibility for the postseason, per NCAA rules which state that any score under 930 is a failing grade. Jones said the Vols finished the 2012-13 year with a score of 962, which would bring their four-year average to 938.5 and keep them punishment-free. “Maybe you guys don’t understand the magnitude of it,” Jones said. “It’s huge, and that is one of the things we have fought in the recruiting process.” Jones said the football team posted a perfect score of 1,000 for the spring semester. The numbers will not be officially released until the spring of 2014, but senior kicker Michael Palardy juxtaposed Jones’ mindset towards academics compared to Dooley’s. “Huge emphasis,” Palardy said. “It is always, ‘You are here to get your degree, you are a student-athlete, not athlete-student.’ School is first, your education is first and Coach Jones always preaches it to us.” Jones credited the Thornton Athletics Life Center and its new director, Joe Scogin for aiding in the cultural shift. By comparison, senior defensive tackle Daniel Hood said Dooley’s academic strategies lacked in execution. “It just seemed like there was always an issue when Dooley was here,” Hood said. “The class checkers didn’t know who they were looking for and there were so many different things. I think the Thornton Center wasn’t operating as good as it is now.” Although Tennessee’s 2014 recruiting class is nearly full – and ranked No. 2 in the country by Rivals.com – Jones emphasized that putting the potential of APR-related punishments will be an aid to the Vols in attracting high school talent. “That is one of the things that we have fought in the recruiting process,” he said. “As you know, opponents, they’re going to look and read everything and going to try and throw everything at their competition. “Moving forward with the recruitment process, I thought it was critical at this stage of the game to announce that.”
• Photo Courtesy of Blake Roller
Lakeshore Mental Health Institution was shut down in June 2012. Witnesses and paranormal enthusiasts say visitors brave enough to enter can still hear voices from patients who once resided within the asylum.
Vacant insane asylum houses dark past Old mental hospital spanned decades of maltreatment before becoming therapeutic Clint Shannon Contributor An abandoned asylum standing empty on a 100 acre park. Scared yet? Despite closing permanently last year, Lakeshore Mental Institute still stands in the midst of Lakeshore Park, located at 6410 South Northshore Drive. Most of its buildings have decayed into shambles and ruin. With a history of dark, mysterious procedures and happier practices in equal measure, the complex first opened in 1886 as the East Tennessee Hospital for
for the mentally disabled, whether sentenced, admitted or sent away. “It was a place you went and you stayed and you didn’t want to be there,” Roller said. In 1927, the center was renamed the Eastern State Psychiatric Hospital. Following the 1955 invention of the tranquilizer, the hospital adopted a new form of treatment. In 1960, they introduced the $2 million Therapeutic Village, which included cottages, a store, a clinic, a coffee bar, a chapel and a pool. Roller said he believes this lifestyle greatly improved the happiness of the patients. “People were a lot happier coming out of Lakeshore,” he said. “Lakeshore was a model institution for other facilities. From what I’ve read, people would just come there to see how Lakeshore treated its patients in this new way of treatment.” For Roller, Lakeshore’s evolution
embodies the development of the mental health care system in America, from dark, experimental days to more effective, humane treatments. “You see the times where we kept them in dark rooms and brick walls, and then you see the times where we let them roam around free and it was encouraged that they actually get out and do things,” Roller said. “It was encouraged that they learn things—that they learn a trade.” In 1977, the hospital’s name was changed to Lakeshore Mental Institute. Shortly thereafter, in 1980, the state began their plan to shift the patients at Lakeshore to community sustained help until the hospital closed in 2012. Not much later, in the spring of 2013, a former employee found patients’ records laying in one the buildings, which contained case numbers, dates of birth and Social Security numbers. See INSANE ASYLUM on Page 2
Celtic Thunder ‘captivates’ crowd with Gaelic atmosphere and song Hannah Cather Photo Editor The first few rows of the audience cheered with exuberance as the show began. Bright voices of the six men in Celtic Thunder rang out through the Tennessee Theatre. After the first song was finished, the predominately female section shouted in approval. With appreciative smiles, the ensemble launched into their two-hour performance. Tuesday night’s concert was put on by UT’s Cultural Attractions Committee.
Bradi Musil
Eric Smith • The Daily Beacon
Ghost tales creep around corners of campus Hannah Moulton Contributor It’s that time of year. People everywhere are searching for haunted houses, both fake and real. For frightening tales, UT students need to look no further than their very own campus. Structures more than two centuries old are bound to accumu-
Page 2-3 Page 4 Page 5-7 Page 8
Renowned body farm gives life to educational experience Staff Writer
The Irish singing ensemble Celtic Thunder performed Tuesday at the Tennessee Theatre.
See CELTIC THUNDER on Page 5
INSIDE THE DAILY BEACON News Opinions Arts & Culture Sports
the Insane. Blake Roller, junior in journalism and political science, first encountered the mental hospital as a freshman while visiting a friend. After the complex closed, Roller researched and explored the facility. In the institution’s early days, Roller explained, patients came from families who could not or would not provide care. These patients would spend the bulk of their lives on this plot of approximately 100 acres. “Throughout history, people with mental disabilities have always been frowned upon,” Roller said. “They were considered a threat to society and someone that you disposed of, you locked up, and there was no treatment for them.” Psychological testing was conducted, much of which would be considered unethical by today’s standards. Roller said the institute was basicalyl a prison
late their share of ghost stories. The fact that UT is built on an Indian burial ground and Civil War battlefield, certainly influences the idea that campus is haunted. Google “UTK ghosts” and it will bring you to the school’s official “Ghost Stories” webpage. The page tells of haunts at different areas on campus. The Hill is reportedly haunted
by two separate spirits. One is a man dressed in 1930s attire and is reportedly the ghost of a heartbroken former student who committed suicide after his girlfriend ran off to marry another man. He wanders aimlessly around the Hill, giving him the name of the “Walker on the Hill.” Another entity supposedly located on the Hill is a large, spectral dog.
Like The Daily Beacon is printed using soy based ink on newsprint containing recycled content, utilizing renewable sources and produced in a sustainable, environmental responsble manner.
utdailybeacon.com
The Daily Beacon
Large teeth and claws, bright red eyes and a piercing howl are features of the ghost canine. Referred to as “Bonita,” she is supposedly the pet of Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence Tyson who was buried on the lawn of the Tyson House. The story goes that she prowls campus searching for her masters. See HAUNTED UT on Page 5
Follow
@UTDailyBeacon
Follow
@DailyBeacon
Founded in 1971 by William M. Bass, UT’s Forensic Anthropology Center was the first of its kind. More colloquially referred to as the “body farm,” the center was designed as a research facility for studying human decomposition. Here, undergraduate and graduate student volunteers work alongside anthropology professors and facility staff. “We have students involved in a little bit of everything,” said Dawnie Steadman, Ph.D., and director of the Forensic Anthropology Center. “They are part of placing bodies when they first come in, they also excavate the bodies, put down grids and treat each corpse like a crime scene.” Corpse donations to the facility are primarily done through a registration process completed by a donor while he or she is still living. See BODY FARM on Page 2