Concordia University Chicago - Pillars Yearbook (River Forest, IL)

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R1verForesl,111inois ll 7 isturg uf Qllus.-5 1915 ISTORY with its mystery of mythology and boisterous victories is generally more interesting than arithmetic, algebra, geometry, gram- mar, botany, Zoology, harmony, and geography. History is the witness of times, the life of memory, and the messenger of antiquity, a record of the past compiled for the benefit of the later generations. lt is an accepted truth that it takes a great man to make historyg however, Class I9 l 5 does not wish to bear the responsibilities of that assertion. This history is merely to give pleasant recollections, as pictured by Bayly in the following words: Tell me the tales that to me were so dear, Long, long ago: long, long ago! Memory is the treasury and guardian of all things. The pictures which hang from its walls do not forever retain the lucidity and clearness which were theirs originally. The class is well aware of that fact, and, therefore, this attempt has been made to reproduce its history on paper. This effort, how- ever, requires prudencc, and, therefore, some details will not be spared. Let us review the remaining army of eighteen, and begin when the great- est number were recruits, and the rest had not, as yet, enlisted. Let us look through the class-album comprising the events of six consecutive years! Let us also dream over and picture to our fancies the numerous events and occur- rences of our past college days, and let us again meet old friends and class- mates! It was in the year l909, when our Lutheran Synodical Conference as usual sounded the bugle-call, and issued a summons to young men to come to the camps at Addison, where they might be prepared for the battle against all enemies of the church, and where they might receive instructions as to the care of the smallest in God's kingdom of grace. The call for volunteers was not in vain, for there were many who were eager to join the ranks of the men already on the firing line. It now remains for us to obtain some detailed information as to the preparations, which were necessary for this long journey to the camps. The following should be the story of an individual member. It was on a bright September morn, and the warm rays of the sun were penetrating the already chilled autumnal atmosphere. This month is generally a busy one for the mother whose son is a college boy or one to be. So it was also in this instance. The center of our attraction is a farm-house in the heart of our country. Everything round-about the peaceful little dwelling was somnolent and toned-down on that day. Why this dispirited and melancholy state of affairs? The principal reason is that little Johnnie, the pride of his parents, is to leave home. l-lis mother and sisters are busily engaged getting

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I2 Concoraza Teacfiefs College his wardrobe in readiness, baking some cookies for him to be eaten in his new home, and, in fact, doing everything possible to please the young traveler. So Johnnie is to travel! Where to, if We may ask? To reveal the secret, he is to enter the Lutheran Normal College at Addison. Everything was in readiness, and it was time for Johnnie to bid his mother, brothers, and sisters good-bye. Father had hitched the horses to the buggy, placed Johnnie's trunk upon it, and was ready to drive his dear son to the railroad station. The door of the house opened, and Johnnie crossed the threshold followed by sobbing mother and sisters, who there embraced him, and took leave of him, not to see him again within a year. Johnnie, who was only too eager to leave home for college, where he expected sports and good times, sprightly stepped into the carriage, and the horses swiftly carried the occupants from home. As the boy purposely gazed towards a certain house, a tiny handkerchief made its last appearance, betraying, as it were, some amorous play-mate. He cast one lingering look in that direction, and it seemed to him at that moment as though he were leaving his best friend. Not one Word was exchanged between father and son during the entire ride. They soon arrived at the quaint old railroad station where the train was stopping for a short time to take water for the engine. Several friends had assembled at the station to say farewell to Johnnie. Father at the last moment admonished his boy to remain a dutiful, loving son, and, after a short embrace, the lad boarded the train which was soon under full steam on its way to Chicago. During the entire trip, Johnnie, who before had been eager to leave home for college-life, felt the pangs of absence from his paternal home and of all that was so dear to him. After several hours of riding, during which he had fallen asleep, he was aroused by the call of Chicago! Chee-caw-go! next stop! He quickly gathered his belongings, and, after the train had stopped, it was unloaded of its human baggage. The trip was not completed, however, for it was another twenty-four miles to Addison. Just as Johnnie was inquiring at the informa- tion bureau about the next train, someone tapped him on the shoulder. When he looked up, he met two friends from near his native town, who were bound for the same college as he. They were surprised but also glad to meet their little friend so many miles from home. With several hours at their disposal, the three Walked through the loop district of the metropolis of the West to gaze at some of the wonders which pleased their curiosity. At train- time the boys returned to the station, where a short, well-built, robust, and gray-haired gentleman, evidently of Irish birth, with a sonorous voice shouted: Addison Cannon-ball, train for the West! The words of the old man fell like the clear strokes of a bell, laden with pathos and a certain rude poetry which seemed elemental. With feet as Heet as those of a deer the three entered the train. Some difference between this udinky and the Pullman on which