Emerson College - Emersonian Yearbook (Boston, MA)

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Without a Single Nose Twisted by Heroes ... 1 hat ' s how we made our way to Boston, clutching our poetry, our electronic equipment, or our confidence. Pacing ourselves with outspoken (over- spoken?) understanding of nearly everything and barely anything, our supposition being that we ' d pick-up whatever we needed - fast. And that ' s how we left our folks and siblings, our mistakes and you- know-what-l-did attitudes. The remedy was in Boston — whatever remedy we were looking for, or from that which we were escaping. A place called Emerson would give us fluidity of tongue, (and cheek?), discipline of in- spiration and pen, and an intellectual poise. Of course there would be more: more of what we wanted and less of what we did not. Upon our arrival, Emerson ' s first manifestations were the old dormitories, not-like-mother ' s (Jesus, it ' s bad!) food. Brimmer Street (the utmost in mod- ern facilities) along with F.L.P., and what we soon would discover to be standard wine and cheese get- togethers. There was the mandatory Oh! Calcutta! in the back theatre, where we were given a prelimi- nary lesson on bloomers. In those hot and sticky quarters (there were alot of people there), we were informed that only one out of three would gradu- ate. Some of us didn ' t wonder why.

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Contents Dedication 7 . . . and, in appreciation . . . , 10 Administration and Student Services 13 Academics 21 » Atheletics 55 Seniors 67 Clubs and Organizations 131 Student Life 169 Senior Directory 207

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Emerson introduced us to the fine Augustinian concepts of research papers and our free perusal of the Abbot Memorial. We learned the art of staying up until five a m. typing and working, (and then again, of course, times when we were definitely not working). And while some searched the record li- brary at the radio station (with or without visions of grandeur dancing in their heads), some kissed mi- crophones (believe it or not, that was the supposed essence) with Emersonian speech, others sweated unit counts for headlines, or began the twenty- second draft of a poem. Others memorized anato- my (in the book! from a book!)!! Boredom and hallalujahs, excitement and folly, quibbled in our brains. Elaborate or simple lifestyles emerged. Perhaps not the assemblage we had antici- pated. Perhaps not all with improvement, or at least with the elevation we had expected, Knowledgeable of cynicism, pickings of some newly formed sensi- bility, we were all tripped or ran a good mile. Having stopped looking for a utopia or a romantic suffering, we took each day as it came and stopped counting on our fingers. 5