Georgian Court University - Courtier Yearbook (Lakewood, NJ)

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stream of music, on which the happy dancers floated and dreamed. For weeks afterward, we heard our favorite melodies above the strains of irregular verbs and the hylomorphic theory.. The rest of November and December ran together in a bright kaleidoscope of holiday gaiety. The Thanksgiving turkey was tempt- ing but its memory was soon eclipsed by the thrill of the beautiful yuletide. Christmas, with its joyous laughter and its sweet seriousness, put the Junior Class in truly nostalgic mood. The Holly Hop, the candlelit caroling, the touching crib cere- mony, and the Senior play, were piled in a pyramid of pleasure. When the Christmas banquet arrived we thought nothing further could be added. But we soon found there was a delightful surprise awaiting us. For at the banquet, Miss Blake encircled our proud fin- gers with our class rings, sparkling reminders of class and college loyalty. Then looking at the warm topaz in its golden setting, we suddenly realized that time was speeding along in its winged chariot. We would watch the Court dressed in her winter ermine only one more year, so we determined to draw out every day interminably. But time is immutable, and before we realized it Christmas vacation had come and gone, and exams were fast approaching. Hur- riedly we began the last desperate lap of the semester's journey. Finding misplaced notes, completing term papers, worrying, and plain old-fashioned pencil-chewing were the order of the day. The actual distribution of blue books and taking the exams seemed almost an anticlimax after all the preparation. Everyone lived through it, however. We had only a few minor casualties, such as acute writer's cramp and last minute the- suspense-is-killing-me attacks. Soon the Junior class, their worries over for the time being, marched en masse to the movies in celebration. ' Now we moved into the deep, cool waters of Retreat, taking time to appraise our own efforts in the silence of our hearts. Under the direction of Msgr. Leslie D. Barnes, we realized forcibly that we must clear away the petty considerations which obscure our broad, clear view of life. . As the second semester began to gather momentum, the Juniors enlivened school life with a Valentine Party, of which Rita Masto- loni, Betty Guinane, and Beverly Richey were Co-Chairmen. Hilarity rivaled sentiment for the center of the stage that night, as hearts and flowers shared the honors with jokes and gymnastics. Perhaps it was not in the strict romantic tradition, but we felt there were a few pointers little Mr. Cupid could take from us. Now we began to think of the long stretch of time until Easter. Whatever would we do with ourselves? We couldn't study all the time. Well, we went to the Senior Prom, and danced the night away in sheer bliss, we contributed to the inter-class dramatic competition with a production full of sus- pense, that Pat Hamilton directed in true theatrical fashion, we weathered storms of hair-cutting, dieting epidemics, new argyle patterns, and new steadies . . . we were even smitten with acute cases of spring fever. All in all, that Easter vacation arrived in record time. April, as always, brought rain and endless practice for the Musicale. May, as always, brought sun, velvet lawns, flowers, and the heavenly harmony of the Musicale itself. Above all, May meant crowning Our Lady with the flowers of her children's love. By now, the school year was really tumb- ling head over heels toward its closing. Exams once more caught us in their web. After es- caping, we had no time to catch our breath, for Senior week had arrived. The most anxiously awaited event in these six action-packed days was the Junior-Senior Dinner which the Juniors gave in honor of the graduating class. The Freshman Banquet and the Moving-Up exercises rivaled its supremacy, however. When Graduation arrived, we were unpre- pared for the tug at our heartstrings that came with the departure of these dear old friends. We thought of the one brief year remaining of our own college comradeship, and it made us realize as never before that we must: 1 Guard, O guard our girlhood sweet, Before time, on stealthy feet, Comes to still our youthful laughter. JUNIOR CLASS OFFICERS Seated and smiling are the junior officers Jeannie Johnson president, Anne O'Brien, vice president, Betty Gulnane secretary and Rita Mastoloni, treasurer

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The Junior Class assembled in Hamilton living room. INDIAN summer, that delightful illusion the magician September creates, brought dreams of relaxation, revery and romance. But to the surprise of the Junior class, it also brought such harsh realities as the opening of college. So, reluctantly, we traded bathing suits for books, and convertibles for caps and gowns. The fatal day arrived, and Hamilton House echoed the sounds of gay reunion, while Kings- cote reverberated to the strains of Simply thrilling that we're all still together. And, Does anyone have a trunk key? l locked mine inside the trunk. The next morning found all the Juniors puzzling over their schedules and blinking at the long-expected but still formidable Re- quired . . . General Psychology. Sister M. Giovanni, the new dean, soon soothed our feverish worries with her gentle welcome and the hope that this would be our happiest year at the Court. No wish was ever more com- pletely fulfilled. We never realized what truly venerable old ladies we were becoming until we found our- selves big sisters to the newly-arrived Fresh- men. Eagerly we chose our little sisters: This girl went to camp with me once, l'll pick her. l like this one's name, it sounds interesting. l'll take the timid little Frosh l was talking to yesterday. And that night, at an informal party at the club, we discovered how fortunate our selections had been. Laughter, cokes, and ice-cream were a gay beginning for sturdy new friendships. We lived up to our reputation as a closely- united class when we unanimously elected Jeannie Johnson president. The official cabi- net was completed by Anne O'Brien, vice presi- dent, Betty Guinane, secretary, and Rita Mas- toloni, treasurer. During their term in office, the Junior government continued its four-year Era of Good Feeling , with no opposition party. Autumn was a Pied Piper with its golden days irresistibly calling us to ride our bikes around the breeze-ruffled lake, to scuff through the flaming leaves, to hike and play soft-ball on the still-green fields. We felt more like frisky puppies than dignified upper- classmen, but fun seems a fit companion for fall. We watched sympathetically as the Fresh- men struggled through initiation. They were rewarded for their sportsmanship and good humor by an impressive lnvestiture. As we marched solemnly down the Mansion stairs to present our little sisters to our beloved president, Sister Marie Anna, we knew they now were integral members of the Court family. We could not help feeling that we, too, had acquired a new dignity. All that happened so far, however, seemed mere prologue to the central theme of the year: the Junior Prom! That magic word was responsible for commotion weeks in advance. Frannie Turecamo was chosen chairman, and then plans got underway in earnest. We bombarded the campus with posters and announcements, arousing excitement until . . . November i9 arrived! The Jade Room of the Waldorf-Astoria was a glittering back- ground for bouffant tulle and shimmering satin, punctuated with the black of tuxedoes. Ernie Warren's orchestra poured out a silver

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Sophomore residents of Campus Club. REMEMBER us? We are the class that skipped through the gates of Georgian Court with Mother Nature as our special guide. With her sunshine she made our arrival the first resplendent one in some few years of the school's history. Now as Sophomores, our sincere thanks to this protectress are still on our lips. lt seems, though, that she provided us with such an impressive and breathtaking Freshman year that we felt as though we had experienced all the Court could offer and that surely we must graduate. Last June when we came to the realization that we had three more years of G. C. C. life before us, we resolved to start our second one with this thought in our minds. This adopted Mother of ours was not going to spoil us as Sophomores. As of September i948 our two new residence halls, the Campus Club and the Lakehouse fitted perfectly into our scheme of indepen- dence. Both were sufficiently removed from the classrooms and, actually outside the main gate. At first the long hike was novel, but even after it became otherwise, we were too stubborn toadmit it. CLAS 0F The course which accompanies the assumed prestige of every Sophomore at G. C. C., Logic, edged into our schedules. By the study of this liberal art we began the ordeal of making free women of ourselves. Just to remind us of the radical change we had made from Freshmen to Sophomores we elected new class officers. They were far from radical themselves, rather, they were girls who were level-headed and had initiative and sparkle, as well. Tall and attractive Julie Sullivan was our president, the petite horse- woman , Mary Henderson, the vice president, Betty Limont, our athlete, was secretary, and for treasurer we chose the math and science whiz Ann Von Hoene. At the annual Fall Card Party some of the Sophs acted as hostesses as they had done the previous year. But many of us played the sophisticated game of bridge which had taken most of the preceeding year to master. Unanimous was the approval and the con- sumption- of the extra hour permitted us on Sunday evenings! What happiness we squeezed from the sixty minutes after the Freshman deadline. The La kehouse Sophomores. l 38 1951