Butler University - Carillon / Drift Yearbook (Indianapolis, IN)

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' ■- V

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Both on and off the campus, ours was a year of precedent. Harry was elected in the face of what seemed to be overwhelming odds. After all night sessions by radios, many of us flocked to the nearest news medium in the early morning to see if the miracle was still happening. The terrific weight of the falling polls all but broke the backs of heretofore praised professional prognosticators. We had just become accustomed to longer skirts, and now had to amend our tastes to accept the short hair cuts of the fair sex. Certainly not to be over- looked was the advent of the schmoo, the omnipresent, lovable little creature from Dogpatch, whose sole mission seemed to be the better- ment of humankind. (Besides furnishing butter and eggs, a schmoo, when split lengthwise, made excellent building material.) We made a lot of adjustments duri ng the year, but by far the most difficult was the acceptance of the Kinsey Report. The psychology department came to our aid with a report on a report on the Kinsey Report, which was highly thought of by the student body. Some of us had the opportunity to meet noted visitors to the city, and a few got interviews, and took pictures. The dignitaries ranged from burlesque queens to the President. And all year long fellows whistled, girls hummed tunes that rose and faded; and we all agreed that a Slow Boat to China sounded like a good deal.

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Falling into line in the passing parade of memories are the faculty ... as diversified in appearance and personality as the classes they taught. Behind desks and before blackboards we thought of them as animated text books. Over coffee and under blue football skies we knew them as people. We polished their apple, cribbed their tests, slept through their lectures, cut their classes, and laughed when we got away with it. Yet we respected them. For eventually we realized that our tricks weren ' t so new and clever. They had been used by thousands of students in hundreds of schools, and were known by actual practice to the very profs we sought to deceive. We saw most of our profs three times a week, and listened to them for one-hundred and fifty minutes of eternity. But there were times when the bell rang long before we expected it . . . during exams, and during some of those lectures that departed from the usual dreary, dry, dogmatic discourse. And always we ' ll remember the faculty in caps and gowns on class day.