Furman University - Bonhomie Yearbook (Greenville, SC)

Page 13 text:

With the fall comes the changing of the green hillsides to mountains of dazzling yellows, blazing reds, somber browns. The crackling of leaves beneath loafers and boots heralds the coming of cold winds and drizzling rains. Bare trees stand stark and gloomy against the purple skies of dusk. Groups of laughing students stand huddled together in the crisp fall air, their breaths a gray vapor. This is football weather! Thousands crowd into the stadium armed with scarves, blankets, gloves, hot coffee. The air of gaiety and expectancy is contagious. Yet how quickly the mood of a crowd can change! The stadium rings with shouts of triumph and then suddenly echoes with disappointed groans. The expectant crowds come away thrilled with victory or despondent over loss. But Furman, though confident in victory, is proud still in times of defeat.

Page 12 text:

In the early fall, the migration of students begins. Some are newcomers, while many are veterans, familiar with the give and take of college life. For these returning die-hards, college life is routine. But for the newcomers, in the beginning, there in confusion. Strange faces loom across the table, and unfamiliar voices bark terse answers to hesitant questions. Long, long lines seem never to begin and never to end. Tired feet carry tired minds back and forth along weary paths. Then suddenly one day, it all makes sense. Faces acquire names; long halls and endless stairways are no longer dreaded labyrinths but familiar passageways; sensitive hearts find themselves full of new joy to replace emptiness and longing ... for this is home. This is where we belong. Our roots spread and each day reach deeper into the rich, fertile soil of study and play. s

Page 14 text:

In wind and rain, on cold days and Frosty nights, the library remains the center of activity. The accelerated, chaotic pace of the opening days of school soon settles to the monotonous tempo of routine. We find ourselves engrossed in study, always behind, and always over-worked. We trudge through the mundane tasks of eating, studying, sleeping. Burning the midnight oil becomes commonplace. Tests, parallel and term papers are interminable. Days come and go and roll over us with bleak consistency, so that we lose perspective and wonder at our purpose. We sometimes forget that we determine whether we live or merely exist. There is something of ourselves that we must give and something of others that we must take, and it is up to us either to fail or to succeed.