Campbellsville University - Maple Trail Yearbook (Campbellsville, KY)

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It almost didn't seem right, having to quit work, quit the summer fun, and quit sleeping late. just to go back to school. After all, just three short months ago I had graduated from high school and now the grim prospect of three more drudgerous years, a slave to the book, captive of the pen, and servant to the professor loomed ahead. And above all, to be treated like a green freshman by the upperclassm en was indeed a bitter pill to swallow. But there I was, standing out on Hoskins Avenue wondering if the institution before me was indeed Campbellsville College better known as Russell Creek Academy. A lengthy verbal proclamation by a gentleman calling himself Henry erased all doubts and I proceeded on my journey. A breeze swept over the campus causing the trees to sway and a little whirlwind raced between old Stapp Hall and the Administration Building. Ah, yes, the trees. The gnarled Dogwood to the majestic Oak and a row of sapling Maples that seemed to form a trail, all spread a shady blanket over the campus. It was a beautiful day and the morning sun re- flected off of the windows in the ivy faced gymnasium. I walked past that venerable of building, running my fingers through the cool ivy leaves that were still wet with dew. New red brick and sparkling grass caught my eye and I naturally supposed the two buildings be- fore me were new and the fact that no signs had yet been placed on them further supported my theory Clater I found out that I was correct and that the additions were the SUB and the Science Buildingb. I kicked at a fly that buzzed off toward the sun and I headed in the direction of the SUB. Suppressing the desire to explore its inner spaces, I instead turned right to in- vestigate the hill between the two new build- ings. There before me was a crescent ampi- theater of concrete and grass with a blacktop stage. Slowly I descended the rows and upon reaching the bottom I took a bow as if I were a great Greek actor and thousands of eyes were upon me. That day passed and so did the weeks. My first date was spent sitting in the arbored bench next to that stately old mansion, Stapp I-Iall. The stars were all out and I could al- most see the spire of the Big B . At night it was lit up like a giant white cone and I often had mixed emotions about it. Indeed it was

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S P I N 1 H E R S 0 1 W T l MAPLE TRAIL 1969 Campbells ville College Campbell.s'v1'lle, fXV6'lIIl1C'li-1 Le-Li3il5m.G2eF H H -A -P-

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? beautiful, but twice a week at nine in the morning I had to be in one of its pews for the chapel program. Besides chapel I had Fresh- man convocation on Fridays which was in- tended to teach me in a semester what I should have learned in a week. But I was in college now and its own special maturing process was teaching me to accept responsibility. Often I would sit in my room watching the rain as it formed small puddles on the pavement and turned the grass a deeper shade of green. It was then that I realized what college was all about. The books, the teachers, the friends, many of which would only become shadowed memories and nameless faces someday in the cloudy, distant future. A raindrop fell through the barely opened window and landed on my cheek. It slid down and left a track just like a tear and I remembered a friend on the faculty that had already left us for a better world. It was quiet and I lay back on my bed and went to sleep listening to the farm report on the radio. When I awoke the leaves were dancing before mother nature's brush and a vast monthly dis- play of color shrouded the campus. The Dog- wood, the Oak, and the Maple had donned their vesture of autumnal colors and I was a Sopho- more. The building of floats for homecoming was a busy and arduous time. Chicken wire, napkins, wagons, and tractors were combined to support the theme, Tiger Spirit . As a rule the nights were cold--very cold. Our fingers seemed to stay with the spirit of the season for they too turned--a light shade of blue. And then the weeks labor was displayed