Birmingham Southern College - Southern Accent Yearbook (Birmingham, AL)

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f I .1 I - Senior Class Prophecy Once upon a miJnighl Jrcar , Ji hilc I pondered, n ca and ii eai }. Over man}} a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore ; While I nodded, near!]) napping, suddenly there came a tupping. As of someone genlly rapping, rapping at ml) chamber door. ' ' Tis some visitor, ' I muttered, ' lapping at m ) chamber door ; Only this and nothing more. ' Open here I flung the shutter, jvhen, Tvith many a flirt and flutter. In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore; Not the least obeisance made he; not an instant stopped or stayed he; But, Tvith mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door — Perched upon a bust of Pallas, just above my chamber door — Perched and sat, and nothing more. Dum founded by the appearance of this strange visitor, so vividly portrayed by Poe, I had scarcely recovered my balance when I was more astonished than ever to hear the raven speak. Would you like to look into the future and see the changes that will take place in the next ten years? quoth he. If so, follow me. And without further ado he flew out through the door of my chamber. Acting on the impulse, I grabbed my hat and followed him. It did not take me long to realize the vast changes that had taken place in the world during the lapse of ten years, especially in the modes of transportation. A fast plane with a maximum speed of 300 miles per hour was at my disposal during my wanderings with the raven. But I haven ' t time to dwell on the momentous changes in the world, and will only mention what I saw of my classmates of the 1920 Class of Birmingham-Southern Col- lege, as I saw them in 1930. The first one I ran across was Tipton. As everyone can easily imagine, he was in the midst of a heated discussion. He had been sent to Congress, and was trying to put through one of his many reform measures. During my conversation with him he told me that he had at last found a Sweet Juvina willing to join hands with him in holy wedlock. My next stop was in Philadelphia, where I ran across John T. Bradford. Tap- pie had been the manager of the Philadelphia Athletics for three years, and held two world championship rags in his belt. He told me that our popular ex-captain, Sig Levie, had served Harvard as head coach the fall before, and that he, too, had been very successful. I arrived in New ' ork just in time to see Eugene Malone. He had received his doctor ' s degree at Columbia University and was on his way South to begin his first term as President of Birmingham-Southern College. He had never been able to leave the Hill, except to take his degree, and had been quite a success as a professor in our Alma Mater. Vaughan Howard was also in New ' ork City. He was holding down the position of editor-in-chief of one of the greatest dailies in the country. I asked Page iDrnlynine

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j Senior Class History OUR years ago we assembled for the first time on Sunshine Slopes, inno- cent, ignorant, verdant Freshmen. Today we stand upon the lofty pedestal of seniority, almost prepared to step forth into the world as college men and college graduates. What a vast difference in our feeling s then and now! As Rats we had to bear the multiplex machinations of overbearing and dominant upper-classmen. It was then that determination and a fight- ing spirit were inculcated in our minds, and so when we became Sophomores we swore with mighty terror to have vengeance. We swooped down upon the unsuspecting Freshmen and made them feel the weight of the bed slat wielded by our mighty hand. In cur Junior year we began to realize the sacredness of our mission and to turn our attention to loftier pursuits. On the campus, in athletics, in the class room, in love, we were successful, for one of our number left the dormitory to build a cottage for two. The fourth year was the dawn of a new era — the goal of our scholastic attainment. Reduced in numbers, but not in spirit, we are still the busiest class in college, the class that stands for knowledge. We have gone over the top, captured the land of knowl- edge, and are about to hoist our flag. For four years we have fought in an atmosphere surcharged with the smoke of battle and darkened by threatening clouds of doubt and fear. But we are the victors, and the rewards of the fight belong to us. Among us we have seven types of human beings, each with his own individual charac- teristics, but all aiming toward the highest ideals and loftiest achievements in life. In college we have all made names for ourselves, some in athletics, some in the class room, some in society. In life we shall strive toward various goals, and whatever of praise or honor shall be ours, the glory belongs to our Alma Mater. Let us remember that what- ever we achieve in life that is worth while must be pro Chnsto et Republica. We Tip the scale to its highest point We ' re O. K. and never out of joint. Page iweniM cr ' e ' .f

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-- - Vaughan if he had heard of O. K. Lamb lately, and he surprised me by saying that ' Osie Kiah had given up the ministry and had taken up the profitable business of stock raising. Just as I was climbing out of my plane in the aerodrome of my palatial home on Fifth Avenue, New York, I found myself going over the foot of an iron bed in East Hall to the tune of ' Soupy, played by our jet-black friend, Lee. Senior Class Poem Long, long ihe way our feet have come, And ihorny, too, and rough to some; But now the goal salutes our gaze, The last of many happy days. And as we view the fading past And dream on days that fled so fast. Full many a thorn which once was ours Seems all a-blossom now with flowers. The bugle call of life to men Who must the battle now begin; We ' ll win the battle is our song; Defend the right, redress the wrong. We come, O Duty, valiant strong; The friends of right, the foes of wrong. O Alma Mater, while we bow, Thy hand of blessing ' s on each brow. And when in distant years we turn Our footsteps where thine altars burn, Still true to honor and to ihee We ' ll pledge undying loyalty. Page thirty