Bryn Mawr College - Bryn Mawr Yearbook (Bryn Mawr, PA)

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Ku Klux Klan Spring comes every year and likewise May Day at Bryn Mawr, but we shall always re- member our last spring and our last May Day. Lady Luck did a slight flip over when that May Day came — the patter of rain and the roar of wind mingled with our voices as we pleaded with the sun from the towe r of Rockefeller. The rain could dampen everything but our en- thusiasm as we one, two, three, skipped , once again with the aid of the Fireman ' s Band, to Merion Green. After the traditional dancing and crowning of our class president, we more or less gratefully adjourned with sniffly noses to Goodhart Hall for the remainder of the cere- monies. At least, it hadn ' t been cold . . . But then it was spring. It had hit Bryn Mawr like a bolt of lightning — the rain on May Day must have had something to do with it. The scenic loveliness of the campus was con- ducive only to sunbathing, the inn, and the movies. We tugged in the interminable war between comprehensives and spending a fifth spring at Bryn Mawr. We stoically resigned ourselves to spectacles and books — neverthe- less, in the sun. We sang out Good-byes on the steps but more talented representatives of our class made more official farewells to the college on Class Day. We mournfully said goodbye to the things which we had known for the last four years. We said goodbye to the traditions which we had inherited and also to several things which we hope will never become traditions: the line in the Bookstore for cigarettes, no but- ter with English muffins. Isn ' t this pretty ' : ' Tivas the night before Christmas Page twenty-seven

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Here they come To the strains of Lohengrin At long last they were over and then there was a full two weeks before grad- uation — one to sleep in and one to tie up all the threads of good intentions. Then we moved into the hush of Goodhart to witness the Baccalaureate service. The regal and distinguished robes of Oxford, the Sorbonne, Yale, Harvard, Cambridge were brought out of moth balls for this academic occasion. The small and large problems of the world were laid before us. Lady Luck made a return appearance, but this time she was smiling as we lined up in front of the Library on a beautiful graduation day. The faculty, again brilliantly arrayed, joined the procession into Goodhart Hall where each and every one was proclaimed honorable scholar of Bryn Mawr College. Inwardly, the scene prompted mixed emotions. It was the final and last tradi- tion of our four college years and at the same time it threw a challenge of something new which we could not and would not fail to meet. And thus, the class of 1945 went out into the cold, cold world. Cases of intoxication will be severely dealt with Candid, what!