Wake Forest University - Howler Yearbook (Winston Salem, NC)

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+ -. — rm £j Y OU arc about to see the drama of Wake Forest i College during; the year 1947-1948 as acted by its most renowned personality — the Demon Dea- con. Who is he? He ' s a human being in the very realest sense of the word. Though you have never seen him, he has been with you from the day you entered Wake Forest as a bewildered freshman. You have felt him in your every act of study and play. Be sure to take a good look at him now. Though dressed like one of our sternest Puritan forefathers, a confirmed blue-nose, you will find that this Deacon is a red-blood to the core. No idle dreamer, this little guy really gets around ! His perennial black suit and top hat, A

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HUBERT McNEILL POTEAT, M.A., Ph.D | HEN one sits down to assay the per- sonality of Hubert McNeill Poteat as a part of Wake Forest, the thing which leaves more impression than any other is the man ' s eloquent love for the school and the things for which it stands. Hubert Poteat was born in Wake Forest and has lived much of his life here. And like his father before him, in the face of many and attractive offers from other and larger institutions, he has stayed here because he has wanted to. Probably no other plan ' s name has become more synonymous with the name of Wake Forest itself than has his during the last generation and a half. He has taught Latin and life here for forty years — taught Latin, to paraphrase Alice Duer Miller, better than college students repay. A ranking classical scholar in this country and rec- ognized abroad, a composer and lover of music, a faithful Mason and fraternity man, Dr. Poteat will longest remain in the memory of the students who have sat in his classes — and there have been thousands of them — as a superb teacher, the sort of man that scholar- ship which is not pedantry creates in its happiest moods. Through the years the Wake Forest Latin class- rooms have become places alive because Poteat is, as the real teacher must be. possessed of a superlative sense of drama — a professor with the soul and the ability of a fine actor. Cicero and Horace, Vergil and Juvenal. Caesar and Livy, Brer Rabbit and L ' ncle Remus and De Lawd from The Green Pastures have be- come under his touch at once alive and unforgettable. Perhaps his students will soon forget the differences between a gerund and a gerundive, but they will never forget his insistence that, in his own words, the verb to teach in Latin takes two accusatives — and the boy comes first. But there is more than this to the great teacher. And this man has drilled learning into our heads with infinite patience and high good humor — learning of the liberal spirit even more than of the letter. Poteat has called us dumbheads and henbrains and illiterates and other such terms of endearment and we ' ve known them to be true to a degree — and we ' ve loved him for having the temerity to address undergraduates in such words. We ' ve watched his bearing and held our heads a little higher, proud we knew him. We ' ve listened to his amazing use of the English language and have trotted to the dictionary the more frequently because of it. We ' ve heard him say, so often, that the older he grows the more quietly assured he becomes of the existence of God and of the immortality of the soul of man — and have because of his leadership been the more emboldened ourselves to seek God. His students have listened to his organ playing and have sung in his choirs and have played chess with him and listened to his yearly reading of The Green Pastures for his literary society, thrilled and reverent. They have looked to him for guidance and have not found it lacking. Hubert McNeill Poteat, at once the terror and the delight of his students, a devoted husband and father (and grandfather), a valued and loyal friend, a great and good man — to him is this issue of the annual of his Alma Mater dedicated with affection and respect. 72134

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partially hiding a bald head, his grim expression and oversized nose are all definite parts in the kaleido- scopic patterns of his character and personality. He can put you into convulsions with his scintillating wit or he can lead you in quiet meditation. TJ E ' S the little guy who made you feel at home among the magnolias scattered over the beautiful campus; he introduced you to professors whom you learned to love and classmates through whom you gained a new- sense of brotherhood and understanding; he showed you the ivy-covered memorial to Dr. Tom on the north side of the stone wall surrounding the campus. While he revealed to you all the sacred traditions that the college cherishes, he took special care to cultivate in you a spirit of friendliness toward your fellow man and an attitude of reverence toward God. Through him you acquired the spirit of tolerance that permeates the fibers of everything that the Deacon touches. The life around you suddenly became free and unrestrained, your soul released from previous suppressions. Almost unconsciously you found yourselves learning each other ' s name and greeting one another with a cheery Hi! as you strolled along the winding campus paths. A TOST people at Wake Forest College tend to take the Deacon for granted. The little guy becomes such a part of them that it is very easy to let him pass by unnoticed. But since he is not the sort of fellow who wants to shout his own praises from the housetops, he is quite content in doing his many jobs quietly and efficiently. In so doing, he makes his contributions all the greater. He has been in Wake Forest longer than any other person. He was here back in 1834 when the college was founded, he has helped lay the cornerstones of all the buildings, he has attended all the classes, and heard all the stories that have become legends. For one hundred and fourteen years he lias been at once professor, student, and caretaker of a small but powerful Baptist institution. LL these facets of the Deacon ' s personality will be- come evident to you as you look through this book. You will find yourselves reliving with him the big events of the year — yelling your lungs out as you watch his proteges trample the formidable University of North Carolina Tar Heels once on the gridiron and again on the basketball court, attending the Pan-Hellenic dances during the year, registering with the largest group ever to crowd into the college, sledding on the golf course during one of the biggest snows in Wake Forest ' s history, and going to panel discussions during Religious Focus Week. You will find the Deacon participating in student activities, teaching and attending classes, being rewarded for outstanding services (and perhaps be- coming just a little puffed up), taking part in athletics, presenting the tops in Wake Forest ' s faminine pulchri- tude, enjoying himself in the various aspects of campus life, and finally letting go with a great big laugh as he spends a vacation at the exclusive SHAW ' S I XX With Ten Big Stories. TX order to show you how the Demon Deacon did all this in one year we take pleasure in presenting to you this, The 1948 Howler. And once again, who is this guy, the Deacon? He is the living spirit of Wake Forest College that has enabled it to serve effectively for one hundred and fourteen years in accordance with its motto— PRO HUMANITATE.