People: Jul. 9, 1965

When she began taking instruction in the Roman Catholic faith last September, some people said it was probably just a phase—possibly because she was dating Paul Betz, a Catholic premedical student. It wasn't that way. On the afternoon of her 18th birthday, accompanied by the President, Mrs. Johnson and Sister Lynda Bird, Luci Baines Johnson rode to Washington's St. Matthew's Cathedral, where she was baptized a Roman Catholic. That now gives the ecumenical First Family three religious affiliations—Lyndon Johnson is a Disciple of Christ, Lady Bird and Lynda Episcopalians.

"I know what appealed to my father about Africa," said Patrick Hemingway, 36, his squinted eyes flickering over the green hills. "We were given a continent to play with in America, and in some respects it hasn't quite turned out the way we'd hoped. The charm of Africa is that we've been given a second chance." Once a white hunter, the second son of the late Ernest Hemingway now teaches game preservation to the tribesmen in the shadow of Papa's beloved Mount Kilimanjaro. Pat Hemingway has his father's merriment, his love of animals and hunting, but he has no intention of writing—not for a while, anyway. "I'm afraid I'm not very good at it," he admitted. "I'd love to write about my experiences, but I think my experiences are still ahead of me."

The 100 members of the Republican National Committee got together in Washington for what shaped up to be a pretty good rumble. But just as Goldwaterites, moderates and Southerners got their razors stropped and zip guns cocked, why, in stepped Senior Probation Officer Dwight D. Eisenhower, 74. Aha, said he, just what I wanted to talk to you about: deportment. And Ike launched into a speech about national political conventions ("a picture of confusion, of noise, of impossible deportment") and how to reform them. First step, said he with a semismile, "would be to get a strong permanent chairman with dictatorial powers and give him sergeants-at-arms, each of whom is about 6 ft. 4 in. and had a great deal of experience either as a noncommissioned officer in the Army or Marines, or at least in the police department." That made them all chuckle and agree that maybe that wouldn't be such a bad idea.

He often acts as if he'd like to fight. And now Wilt ("The Stilt") Chamberlain, 28, all 7 ft. 1 1/6 in. and 250 Ibs. of him, says he wants to do it in a ring, with gloves, instead of gouging around under the basket. The highest-paid player in the National Basketball Association ($70,000 annually) the grousing Goliath says he is "definitely contemplating" leaving the Philadelphia 76ers to become heavyweight boxing champion of the world. His-father suggests that "you probably have a glass jaw." But Cus D'Amato and several other boxing types are interested in Wilt, says Wilt, adding "I could make more in boxing than I could ever make in basketball, and indeed, I do love money very, very much."