Georgia Institute of Technology - Blueprint Yearbook (Atlanta, GA)

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IS GROWiNG II was plain Atlanta had inaturc l a.-ionisliingly in me last Iwenty-rive years. It secnieil iiioreclihle that I had once considered her a minor metropolis. Housing developments, and industrial enterprises covered miles which I recall as having heen wilderness. On being informed that the fabulous horizons in the distance were those of the present campus, I found myself prettv overwhelmecl. Had the humiile academic environs from which I had sprung undergone such a metamorphosis in only twenty-five years? Or was my conception of twenty-five years somewhat distorted? I tried tossing the phrase quarter-of-a-century around a bit but found it depressing. In any case, old Rip Van W inkle had been away longer than he reckoned. On approaching the Biltmore, I was startled to note that the fraternity houses once nearby had disappeared. Their places had been usurped by various business operations. I was further disturbed to count my own fraternity house amongst the fallen. There is something .ibout the demise of a man ' s old fraternity house which a|)proaches closely to emotion. This being the case, I would jirefer to refer you to a literary man (an engi- neer if you can find one). However, you could consult a thesaurus (if you can find one). Under SORROW we have misfortune, trial, blow, grief, distress, affliction. If afso suggests ymr Sr ' adveTsirjrand pain. I would like to proceed to cover adversity and pain as I find this an effortless way of dealing with emotion; how- ever. I dare not court abridgement further. Saving my strength at this time for more wonders to come, I checked into the Biltmore. It was almost a relief to find the decor and plumbing all untouched save by Ten o clock coffee break af the Robbery. An Informal bull session between classes. the years. Here the ilrunimer- ' and Itie Class of 28 were jockeying for position, and knowing the caliber of my classmates, there was little doubt as to which group w(tuld take priority. Let it not be forgotten at this point that the Class of 28 was a class of veterans. The ink barely dry on llieir parchments, they were tossed into an economic typhoon that wrecked many a seasoned craft. That they had successfully weathered the storm and the arid years that followed was in evi- dence. These boys had sprung from austere beginnings (three beds to a room, a ration of moonshine now and then, the prospects of a twenty-dollar a week job to the swift). I want to sav now em|)hatically, if wistfully, that plenty, peace and prosperity do not make the engineer. Here at this reunion it was obvious to all. including the hotel managemenl. that the Class of 28 was long accustomed to the best. The aura of success lay over all. I retired to mv room, a gem of antiquity, the better to recover from the rigors of meeting so man old familiar faces and unfamiliar profiles. Stretching out with a tot of the Biltmore ' s best beside me, I opened a purloined yearbook of 1008. A glimpse of the past I felt to be appropriate at this time, and this book was as far back as I could go at the moment. For your edi- fication, this yearbook was the first published at Tech. It was a slim, unpretentious volume and contained a bucolic panorama of the 1908 campus. Grouped about a circle sward reminiscent of a country fair grounds were five of the central campus buildings. These and five others not visible here comprised the plant and facility. A picket fence separated this retreat of learn-

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GEORGIA TECH NG AS VIEWED BY AN OLD GRAD I must admit 1 louiul llic invilatioii to descrilje ihe rcaclions ol a ((|unle) old grad (unquote) returning to his Alma Mater after twenty-live years as intimidat- ing as complimentary. hat small talents ior self- preservation I may have developed during my years in the competitive jungU; vvere scarcelv those of a literary nature. Reactions, emotions and the like are best left to llir man ol lclt(Ms. Even an engineer must have his limitations, as 1, lor C)ne, do not happen to know any voiy literary engineers. T am sure there are some. Today there is every kind of an nigineer. All I know i- that T woidd like to find one, ol necessity a Tech man. and hrihe him to gh(i t write this pir ce for me. Then, too, 1 am filled with the tear tliat the reactions ol a (cpiote) old grad (lUKpiote) no matter how poign- antly presented, will prove to he |)relty dull fare. I am flattered that the editors think otherwise. Further- more, I feel strongly that 1 coidd turn out a more creditable piece on ' The Contribution of the Magnetic Ta[)e to Dimensional Sound. c (mi though it universal appeal might be cpic-tioned. These reaction . now that I take them out and re-examine them. I find to be a pretty conglouiciate mixture. . . . Cerlainlv astornshment. apjirdbalion aiul pride were foremost when T was first confionled by the myriad changes which have taken place on the Tech campus, and the impact of these changes was not slight. They brought home very urgently the span of years since graduation. Moral: fay homage to your old Alma Mater regularly. However, the fact that the occasion of this visit was mv twenty-hfth reunion gave me a slight edge over old Rip Van Winkle. So manv Van Winkles hobbled down the mountain simultainMii lv that my hoary head and bent frame were partial!) eclipsed. Aging is as depend- ent upon ( ' ompanv as mi ' ery, and alter initial jolts of mutual appraisal all-round, being surrounded by tnv ' ontenipuraries lent a certain comfortable anonym- itv to the visit. Jn other words, I was spared the imlignitv of the |)ointed fmger and the solto voce: Look at that old codger . . . what ' s he hacking around for? All this enabled me to contemplate the remarkable in- novations around me without being overly distracted by the personal. Not tliat the personal could be entirely disregarded. I recall likening the old class ' mean belt line to that of the campus — both had expanded im- pre- ively — both had a very jirosperous look. Prosperity, expau ' -ion. progress — these were in evi- dence everywhere fiom the hour of n)y debarkation at . llanta. Impressive statistics r() -ering this city ' s intliistria! .■onlribution to the nation had been widely over ]]e ears. but statistics are like post- ciri ulatet cards. Neither have much dimension

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Original Plant, 1888 — Old Shop Building and Administration Building ing from the bustle of unpaved Cherry Street ' s traffic. The horses and consequently the three buggies visible seem to be making concertedly towards this frail bar- rier and the lush campus fields beyond. In a foreword entitled A History of Georgia Tech (of necessity, brief). Mr. Ray C. Werner states, It is safe to predict that the institution will continue to grow and prosper. Judging from the staggering skyline outside my win- dow, I felt that Mr. Werner had once the makings of a great banker. Continuing to wade rather than plunge, I turned to the yearbook of ' 28. Twice the size of its twenty-year- old brother, its brown embossed cover impressed me as having been designed to harmonize with th e family album and Bible. I trust it has been treated as rever- ently. Carefully avoiding the pictures of the graduating class of that year, I looked over the twenty-odd build- ings amongst which I had circulated for four years. I was the Boy Scout studiously memorizing familiar landmarks as he enters strange territory. These two yearbooks served to show with sUirtling emphasis how leisurely had been the pace ol progress Itetween 1908 and 1928 as compared to that of tlie last two decades at Tech, Although I had i)een informed that over ten million dollars had gone into the new atlditions at Tech in the past ten years. I was un[irepared for the prodigious immber and elegance of liiese stru(;tures. As I made my uncertain way towards the campus the impressive display of new facilities everywhere left me almost empty of memories. First T stojjped So marvel at a large cluster ot imposing doiinilories suirounding a liaroiiiraj liiiildiii:j, ' Aliiilt 3 vvas inidrmed was a (lining hall, Vv ' iicn last seen onK unc Hrnivri .hir niilory had been in cxi {ellce. Th(- ulii ijiii ' rtiiiur ua- aiino i over- looked bs 11)1 ' i)i ' -:in-c .)l ijie (l!s(i!)glM: li l roinpany around il. i resiiaincd nyscH imm inspecting the Hugh Saint finds time to write home. present sleeping facilities of the students as I feared that a touch of envy might somewhat our my admira- tion. I had been previously forewarned regarding the innovations at Grant Field, since I follow the fortunes of the Yellow Jackets as closely as any old grad from season to season. I found these changes even greater than I had anticipated. Here was a fit setting for the ' perennially excellent gridiron performances Tech alum- ni and fans anticipate. The gymnasium at the end of the field stands like a majestic monument to the school ' s athletic prowess. Tech has reason to be proud of these notable additions to her athletic department. On my left I found a large apartment house conmianding ray attention. This, I was told, was the Burge Apartments. From what I had already seen I was sure there was no housing shortage on the campus. Had I jjeen blindfolded until the moment I mounted the campus steps at the North Avenue and Fowler Street corner. I would have felt perfectly at home. The old Administration Building in the background, the flag- pole, Knowles Dormitory, the Library, the Mathe- matics Building, die E. E. Building, and old Swann Hall — all were just as they had been. All these old buildings which I had known so intimately in the past served to reassure me that I was back and welcome at my Alma Mater. 1 sl()[)ped next at the Knowles Dormitory as I had a hankering to see the old room I occupied during 1924. I w(ndd find it difficult to analyze the compulsion to return to a scene of so many past discomforts. I ' ll only admit that T was wallowing in sentiment at this moment and enjoying it. The room of which I speak was a dank. clii-crlcss little cell that slept three by virtue of a single and double decker. This was strictly steerage when the three of us happened to converge there at the same moment. Since it was impossible for the threesome to deckswab and bed-make at the same time, we tossed