Georgian Court University - Courtier Yearbook (Lakewood, NJ)

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while the rest were residents of 0 f 195 Perini did a scene from 'Macbeth,' that really showed even Shakespeare the finer points of the art of dramatics. After their scene, we paraded some more of the talent possessed by members of our class. To top off the gala gathering, cider, doughnuts and candy apples were served from a rustic booth. Impromptu square dancing brought a pleasant ending to a sociable evening. Sophomore year brings with it that precious time of choosing a class pin, and we were no different in our enthusiasm than the score of sophomore classes that preceded us. After much picking and choosing, debating and eoaxing, the Class of 1950 emerged triumphantly with their pattern-a tiny black triangle, upon which the letter MG. C. Cf' gleamed in gold, surrounded by seed pearls. In each of the three corners of this pin that was soon to be our own, nestled a shiny ruby. Mickey, the dining room mike , soon warned sophs to get their last-minute orders in. Christmas at the Court will never lose its fascination for anyone who has ever had the pleasure of participating in the activities con- nected with it. This, our second, seemed just as sacred, even more exciting, than the first, and we're sure that the novelty will never wear oif. The official beginning came with the Holly Hop, the Court Page's annual informal dance. If the Casino ever had the New Look it was that night, for the ballerina skirts swirled and seemed alive with the music. At tables sat bright-eyed Courtiers, eagerly discussing the monstrous lighted Christmas tree, and a zillion other topics with their dashing escorts and with each other. The Holly Hop came to the Court with us last year, but we're betting that it will remain long after we are mere memories. WW its . . . and some in West Wing With everyone filled with tl1e joy of Christ- mas to say nothing of the anticipation before a vacation, it was suitable and typical that we celebrate the season in the student's chapel with the crib ceremony. We were proud to take our places in line, and as we sang the age-old hymns that tell the story of Christmas so beautifully, perhaps our academic gowns settled on our shoulders with a more dignified air, and maybe our tassels were adjusted just a little more care- fully to the sophomore position on our caps. Exuberance was the keynote for the tradi- tional carol-singing that same evening. We wouldn't miss that for the world! The same can be said for the Christmas banquet that the Sisters of Mercy provide each year as their gift Hamilton Hall. 157

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Our class officers .lane Kane, secretary, Theresa Banko, president, Caroline Lewis treasurer, and Barbara Costello, vice president. TRY as we might, vacation time could not be made to give up a few extra days, not even one. So amid a bevy of trunks, suitcases, bicy- cles, and carload after carload of paraphernalia, the Sophomore class left their homes-which might be anything from a New York apartment to a South American haeienda-to arrive en masse on September 22, a Monday and quite apropos. Talk-fest topics ranged from beach parties to formal affairs on those first few eve- nings back on campus. Hamilton Hall and the Campus Club held the majority of our class of sixty-two within their cheerful walls, which often echoed with the giggles of the girls over a phone call, or a silly letter. Sophomores are full of youth and fun, but did you ever see us wearing our heavy-rimmed specs, poring over the logic assignment? As soon as the schedules were arranged, the sophomores paraded forth with banners flying, to show the world what we could do. First thing, we had to equip ourselves with a set of officers, to steer the ship , so to speak. There- Class fore, after the ballots were counted at the first class meeting of the 194-7-48 school year, Theresa Banko found herself as our new president. Showing the wise judgment of the group, Bar- bara Costello, ,lane Kane, and Caroline Lewis were elected to the offices of vice president, sec- retary and treasurer, respectively. Now we were ready for action. The poor frosh were the first to feel the full force of our ambition. Ready to show our su- periority, Initiation Day found us cool, calm and collected, as opposed to the nervous tremor fluttering throughout the freshman class. And for a good reason, for hadn't we decreed that our underlings must wear their crowning glory in fetching clusters of pigtails and pincurls, and didn't they have to wear their clothes inside out, and didn't they have to carry their doll collec- tions around in wastebaskets? Not only did we torment them collectively, but each individual sophomore spent many a sleepless night con- templating evils worthy of her poor, deluded initiate. But they were such grand sports, that we had to make it up to them with a party that night. We elected Pat Keating and Petie Petrovich as chairmen for the Hallowe'en play and party. Through the cooperation typical of the class of 1950, and the spirit of the remainder of the student body, the affair was a grand suc- cess. After a dramatic entrance by the junior class as a whooping, wild tribe of Indians, the seniors put in an appearance--Kingscote as A1 Capp's Dogpatch, complete with L'i1 Abner and Daisy Mae, the Mansion as the Gould Family, likewise complete. The show was ready to go on. Rita Mastaloni, Lou Tufano, and Florita 'SIM -- N Some of the class lived in the Campus Club . . . , my

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Ice skating time brought both spectators and participators to the lake. for the season. And this year they were not to be outdone in their elaborate plans. Follow- ing the formal dinner, we bundled up to the Casino to see what the Seniors had to present in the line of entertainment. After a perfectly delightful G'Winter Wonderland , the Big and Little Sister gifts, piled high in a sleigh on the stage, were distributed in a hilarious hodge- podge by the hostesses of the evening. Off to our inevitable halls once more, this time to make merry among ourselves, pack our bags, and scurry home, to leave the campus deserted by noon. Need we tell you how it was to get back into the swing of things after that all-too-brief respite for the holidays? The cobwebs detached them- selves reluctantly from our craniums, and it was comparatively simple to slip into the routine of things once again. And besides, exams were careening recklessly just around the corner, and who could afford to flaunt oneself before the very door of Judgment? However, in the midst of those terrible ordeals, one last delight was granted us-the Senior Prom. Familiar as we were at that point with Court life, we looked forward to the ball like children dreaming about the circus. While the seniors had their fun sell- ing bids and making table reservations, we pitched camp at our mailboxes, waiting, waiting, waiting. It was fun, but as the very week of the Perhaps this portrays how the silly Pat, Clare, Theresa and Dolores just had to rest before the last lap of the journey from town. dance came, if one's letter had not yet arrived- oh dear! But, somehow on January 23, we man- aged to walk into the elevator at the Waldorf, and hear our escorts say uStarlight Roof, please, and then we knew that all would be well. And it was! Over breakfast trays the next morning at the Biltmore, the old familiar campus chat- ter moved into the big city, while corsages from the night before wilted on top of hastily un- packed suitcases. With dreams of romance battling out the night with nightmares of the exams, the first se- mester 0211110 to an end with a definite jolt. Re- treat time was here, and with the sophomore class, as with the rest of the student body, the three-day vacation with God ranked high. The Reverend Timothy .l. Mulvey proved popular as a Retreat master at Georgian Court, as he uniquely demonstrated, by means of beautifully simple conferences, that religion is a very per- sonal thing-something that plays an important part in everyday life. SOPIISH acquired their mime- Janet Essner waited for a cab on the Campus Club steps while 313 . . . Eileen Droesch anticipated the vacation in front of Hamilton