Fairfield University - Manor Yearbook (Fairfield, CT)

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time? Somehow, we did this, and did it weekly. And, somehow, we enjoyed it. The Fall was gobbled down by Winter and we were soon inundated by cold, snow, and books. Exams were upon us before we realized it. We rushed to our rooms and began to memorize the name of Alexander the Great's horse and the characters involved in the defenestration of Prague. In Philosophy, we learned how to write about ex- perience, understanding and judgment for five pages of an exam book, if we had to, without having the slightest idea what we were saying. We also memorized Ulysses by Tennyson to regurgi- tate it on the English exam, because we knew that one of the thought-provoking questions asked would be: Recite from memory the first ten lines of 'Ulysses' by Tennyson. Finally, the preparation was over and exams were upon us. The confrontation began between a group of Freshmen versus the labyrinths of Theol- ogy, Philosophy, Languages, History, and English. It was a rolling, tumbling battle: mental dust flew, cries of anguish erupted from parched throats at 4 a.m., and No Doz became as valuable as LSD. But, finally, it was over! We had finished ffor better or worsej the first semester. Returning to our rooms after the last exam, we fell upon the bed, and with head throbbing, eyes swollen and rolling, and stomach crying for food, we muttered: I'm going home for a rest, I do believe l've had enough! New England winters are dismal, especially when they impede any movement away from the campus. The snow and deep freeze of the winter of T965-66 often forced the less hardy of us to remain in the dorms for longer periods of time than what we would have wished. We played long games of bridge and even sometimes caught up on our read- ing. The basketball season kept us relatively sane dur- ing this long, boring period from December to March, and the varsity team of that winter is now legendary. We had come to a small school for a good teacher-student ratio, or for some reason like that, but we had also come to a major basket- ball power that was enjoying its finest year. The team exceeded even the most optimistic predictions of its most loyal supporters. After a loss to St. Joe's Qrated No. l in the country at the timej, the Stags registered a stunning victory over Boston College that catapulted the team into national prominence. To prove that the victory was no fluke, the team ripped through the rest of the sched- ule and finished at 'I9-5. This fine season was ruined, however, with the death of Captain Pat Burke and 28 by the unexplained denial of a berth in the N.I.T. by a group of sinister men lurking behind closed doors in New York. Spring came very slowly and hesitantly that year. lt would often poke its head from under the melting snow in the Quad and promise warm weather soon, only to be swamped by six fresh inches of snow. But finally spring did come and we celebrated it on March l8th, a warm and sunny Friday, when a vast, joyous mob exited from this sleepy town for the St. Patrick's Day Weekend in New York. The Commodore Hotel was naive enough to have an all-college mixer for over T500 people. Our class taught the other schools how to enjoy themselves on a weekend like this. In the space of one week- end, most of us were at parties in the Taft, Statler Hilton, Commodore, New Yorker and Biltmore. This partying continued until Sunday when the troops began to find their way back to school. To see this group returning from the Big City-ex- hausted, hungry and disheveled-reminded one of the return of the Lost Brigade. But we did have fun,

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nightly from that den of inequity. Walls shook, floors reverberated, and ceilings bounced from the pounding of heavy feet observing the 3 a.m. festival of worship held nightly somewhere on Loyola 2. Mind you, Loyola l and 3 were no Trappist corri- dors either, but they simply were outclassed by that infamous corridor that separated them. Unfor- tunately, though, the inhabitants of Loyola 2 had a habit of flunking out. To be a freshman is to wake upin the middle of the night and suddenly realize that you are nothing. For a month or so, in our quiet moments, we often experienced a long, dark night of the soul in which we wondered what we were doing at this place, mourning our lost power, and cringing from the swirling mass of new faces with which we tried to associate newly-memorized names. The girls of the College of New Rochelle were the lucky recipients of our first off-campus social contact in college iwe had had the early mixer with Marymount and a regular fiasco with Manhattan- ville in which the only contact made was the smack of hostile glances and frigid reiectionsl. By the overloaded carload, we invaded New Rochelle on Friday and Saturday nights where we could often be found discussing the German monetary crisis with a belligerent refugee from Fordham in the back room of the Roosevelt. In Freshman year, the Ship Ahoy, cabaret in New Rochelle, was our favorite watering place. lt was a nightspot of excellence equalled fperhapsl only by the Persian Room at the Plaza, with a clientele of unsurpassed beauty and riches. lt was to the Ship Ahoy, then, that we brought our new friends-the Freshman Class at New Rochelle, who were won over by our unique charm and grace. Unfortu- nately, the management of this establishment was not as enthusiastic as the girls were about our pres- ence. We had a habit of leaving this establishment in a state of disarray when we left at 2 a.m. Soon we spread our wealth to the Barge, Tompkin's Steak House, and the White Horse Tavern where we were again received with something less than overflow- ing enthusiasm. The Ship Ahoy, though, remained the top night- spot in Freshman year. The place should be the ob- ject' of a sociological and psychological study. The question to be solved would be: How can three hundred people pile into a place made for two hundred, scream fin order to be heard over the bandj for most of the night, be unable to move voluntarily because of the crush, lose your girl for two hours, have a beer spilled down your neck, receive an elbow in the eye and still have a great I . .j l J . I, 1 'v it f 77

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and that is what is important. March grew into April and Easter vacation. We headed for the Bahamas, Florida, Puerto Rico or, simply, home. lf there were no term papers to do, we generally went south and set about acquiring an early tan on the Florida beaches while wondering when we'll ever get Bleak House read for Fresh- man English. As we rolled over to get a tan on our back, we decided to look for the Monarch Notes for the book as soon as we got back to school. When we did get back, it was almost May and that meant our first Dogwood Weekend. We had been to the Fall Festival in November and to the Mardi Gras in February, but this was the most im- portant weekend of all. This is the one that you spent S100 on. We saw Carolyn Hester at the prom on Friday night and went on a boat cruise on the Sound on Saturday in a cold and wind that was more like March than May. To keep warm, we had to huddle close to our dates. Uhank God for that cold and wind., Saturday night's beach party was transferred to the gym due to the cold. We brought along our blankets and cases of Bud and pro- ceeded to have one of the best times of Freshman year. lt was crowded and very warm but we all danced and sang until our legs, voices and beer gave out. On Sunday, we witnessed a remarkable event-Ray Charles in concert. The genius transfixed us with his musical magic and we gave him a roaring ovation when he was finished. The weekend was over all too soon. All during the year we had heard how great Dogwood Weekend was, and now that we had been to one, we could only agree wholeheartedly. Three weeks later, Freshman year was all over. We had survived. It was summer vacation! We were free! But as we left, we stopped and looked back at what we had been through. It was not easy. No, it wasn't easy at all, but we did survive. As we left on that last day, we asked ourselves, Did I enioy it? and we answered, Yes, I think so. I think I did. September, 1966 brought us back to the campus after a vacation of almost four months. We were Sophomores, and that meant knowing what bars in town didn't check for proof, knowing the mimi- mum amount of work to be done for each courses, knowing the gut courses and teachers, registering some victories in intramural football, and having a bit more leeway with the girls' schools because there were now Freshman and Sophomore classes to choose from. September, 1966 also saw the class realize that it was a unit, not a group of individuals loosely clas- sified as Freshmen who are trying to find a place in this community. As Sophomores, we no longer worried about our position lmost of us has al- ready snuggled into our respective nichesj and could now concentrate on the task at hand: trying to get a Q.P. that didn't overly embarrass us. Not only were we concerned with our individual per- formances as in Freshman year, but we were also concerned about the Q.P. of the class as a whole. We wanted to see how we performed as a unit, not as a group of relatively unrelated individuals. Homecoming Weekend was upon us almost as soon as we were settled in our barracks. A few sub- versive Sophomores huddled together to decide upon a float to enter into the Homecoming pa- rade. What they came up with was the most spectac- ular vision that the teensy town of Fairfield had ever seen: a Kleenex Stag! Yes, folks, this is the one and only famous Kleenex Stag, made from 3,000 tissues of that well-known product iammed into chicken wire in the shape of our beloved mas- cot. Placed upon a flatbed truck, Kleenex Stag paraded around the track at half-time of the foot- ball game, basking in its glory, and winning the S100 First Prize for Gaudiest Entry of the show. Sophomore Year also brought football to Fairfield. A group of enterprising students had or- ganized a football club which would play many of the other clubs fiona, St. .lohn's, etc.l in the area. The team wasn't very good, in fact, it was horrible. But that was unimportant. We had a football team that we could holler and scream for, and that was what we cared about. Our class turned out in full for our first game against Iona at Mt. Vernon Sta- dium. We lived up to expectations by presenting to the world haw to really enioy yourself at a foot- ball game. That night, the action was not on the gridiron, it was in Section 6 of the visitor's stands. Sophomore year also broutht a new addition to the campus-a spanking-new Campus Center that was the last word in modern architecture. The Cen- ter was to be the hub of the campus. Sophomore year also means moving about so- cially. In order to spread the wealth, some of us moved up from New Rochelle to Tarrytown and Purchase on weekends. The Cobblestone, Hilltop and Huddle became part of our vocabulary along with the Ship and the Barge. Manhattanville and Marymount were now left with the imprint fstigma?l of having been visited by us, and our universal cry to the girls of these schools are: You may not like us, you may even hate us, but you will never forget us. The winter of 1966-67 was soon upon us and this meant the return of the basketball season. We soon 29