Emerson College - Emersonian Yearbook (Boston, MA)

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IN GRATITUDE The Heroism That Made It Possible CHERRY BALIBAN, USO PAUL HANEY, Army ELMORE DAY, Army ELEANOR KLEINE, Marines MORRILL RING, Army Page Sixteen

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What would make me even happier now, he continued, would be to find that Stewart here, and Woods or Bates, could put the use of this element to the construction, preservation and protection of man, rather than toward his destruction. The girl ' s neighbor whispered timidly, 1 don ' t get all this — what has this dignity go to do with the atomic era and the new element and the rest of his talking? The girl did not hear, she was waiting for what was coming. She sensed it would be the most important thing of all. His voice changed and became deeper and more serious, The finest and best discovery ever made was that Stewart here had a soul. The words fell softly on the class — there was not a sound — no one breathed for a full minute. Then he drove hard, Yes, the fact that Stewart was sitting right in front of me had some small part of her worth saving, restored and increased the dignity of man. The girl ' s fingers had become white with only tiny threads of red, as she pressed them into the arm of the chair. She reached for his words and the pressure became unbearable for a pulsing had started in her head and every muscle ached with her tenseness. She sat in this rigid position listening to him. Before, only man had a soul; woman was his reflection and not a very good one. But because he one day looked at her and realized her soul was more them that of an ox, that she too, might have intrinsic good, man became a more worthy crea- ture. The throbbing increased, she could scarcely see for the pain of threatening tears, her hand hurt and she thought she might be sick. She kept thinking, if only she could run out of the room — get away, not have to listen to any more. She deter- mined she couldn ' t keep looking at him, she wouldn ' t. She was afraid he might see her face — he would know how it was and that was the last thing she wanted. There must cease man ' s inhumanity to man! Common words, trite words, yes, but someone will go on saying them until life is completely smothered. It ' s impossible to do anything about hope, you ' ll find it ' springing eternal ' in spite of its being old and hackneyed. How can we help? Give each other a leg-up in just the ordinary day to day living. Whenever I want to believe in the goodness, the worth of man, I remind myself of a little man I knew here. His name isn ' t important, but he was a fine professor who came to this college to teach. It was known by many people that he drew in advance against his salary and lived very poorly. His clothes were shabby, he almost never had more than a quarter to his name and no one understood what happened to the money he earned, which was by no means paltry. There were never outward evidences of any spending. One day, he had a heart attack and died imme- diately. It had also been noticed that a few months before his death, his circumstances had begun to improve generally, along with his manner of living. A short while later, I learned the story. It seemed that some years before, this man had interested a number of his friends in buying stock in a corporation which eventually failed. He was not responsible by law, as you well know; however, he took it upon himself within those next years to pay back every cent lost by his friends in the fiasco. It took half his life, but he died a happy man. It was a simple story, simply told. The girl jerked her head toward the window. He was like the voice of conscience, this humble professor extraordinary — of course, that was it, like the gull that flew serenely across the river, straight and peacefully. She was ashamed, deeply ashamed. He was so good — if it were not true, would it be possible for one unassuming man to pry loose the set mould of a girl who knew v hat she wanted from life? She did not want to leave anymore, but as she came back to the classroom world, she let out a long sigh and said, God . . . He was erasing the words from the board. BEATRICE DOWD. Page Fifteen

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GRADUATES OF 1946 Be not disturbed about the future, for if you ever come to it, you will have the same rea- son for your guide which pre- serves you at present. Page Seventeen