Haverford College - Record Yearbook (Haverford, PA)

Text from Pages 1 - 136 of the 1956 volume:

In ,i school so dedicated to the notion that education is as much a process of integrating one ' s knowledge as it is a process of gaining new knowledge, it is to be expected that the students would abhor an annual which attempts to present collegiate life by a process of dissection. From this thought springs the unortho- doxy of our book. The personalities of the men at Haverford can not properly be separated from the lives we lead there. So they are portrayed together, — integrated. THE 1956 RECORD Published by THE SENIOR CLASS OF HAVERFORD COLLEGE Haverford, Pennsylvania Editor-in-Chief Business Manager David F. Dorsey, Jr. John H. Dick This book is dedicated with great admiration and affection to Presi ' dent Gilbert White, whose departure elicits regret mitigated only by an awareness that true happiness is found only in answering one ' s vocation. Advent in Autumn While it was still so warm that to wear any thing over a tee shirt was to dress formally, for a few days once an hour the Paoli local deposited a dozen or so men at the ultra-suburban Haver- ford Station. Typical of the returning students who bustled efficiently with their bags was Pramote Changtrakul, one of the most cultured members of Haverford ' s international set. Rumors say that he keeps a harem somewhere near Bangkok, so perhaps he was returning from there. Or perhaps he was returning from Washington, where it is hinted he spends weekends negotiating defense contracts for the use of teak wood in rifle st neks and PT boat hulls. At any rate, with a calm based on three years ' practice. Prom went about performing the myriad duties involved in getting settled, — last minute course changing, buying books, finding out where and when classes meet, checking the stored hi-fi equipment, bargaining for room furnishings, and mostly saying Hi! enthusiastically to people he never knew and even more enthusiastically to those whose names he had forgotten. Of course, such conventions come easy to Prom. In Freshman year he confounded his tutorial sec- tion by reading his papers in Thai: he and John Ashmead have been fast friends ever since. Simi- lar tactics failed with Herman Somers, so he majored in Phil. Such charm ensures his voca- tional success, even if he does choose one of the suggested extremes; a coup in Siam or YMCA lectures on the contemplation of Nirvana. Six Unfazed by their new life .it Haverford, the Rhinies went through their early days in an enthu- siastic, if not distinguished, fashion. Even in the embryonic stage, the Class of ' 59 showed it- san guine disposition by holding its own in the water fights, pond dunkings, and other aspects of creative play promoted by the Customs Committee. Untamed by the sedate rigors of Customs, the Freshmen finally met their match in the sophisticated Bryn Mawrtyrs and the suave upperclassmen at the tradi ' tional Bryn Mawr mixer. However, before the belligerent Rhinies were shepherded into the true path, they did manage to make their presence known to a few unwilling Sophomores. The pond received members of both classes with its customary muddy welcome, and the tug-of-war resulted in a soggy defeat for the Sophs when the Rhinies dragged them all over the gooey Homecoming football field. Seeking solace, the Soph ' omores pilfered in cloak and dagger fashion the Customs ' trophy which was to be presented to the Freshmen. Perhaps the Rhinies were over-oriented ; The Freshman Class at any rate, they survived the early season jousts better than their predecessors. Since the freshmen were more rowdy than usual Customs succeeded more than usually. Though anti ' social intellectuals suggested that less antiquated manifestations of adolescence might strike Haver- tord ' s imaginative mind, the Frankensteins capped in black vigorously applied themselves to creating Rivalry. Besides Customs, the freshmen were subjected to the usual long distance swimming test and the psych tests to ascertain their neurotic potential. Later in the year, there was the Baldwin dance, etc. Through the year, we have come to know them. Selected judiciously, seeded carefully, weeded occa- sionally, the new crop of Freshmen, — in spite of Barclay floodings and academic drought, — will un- doubtedly grow tall in their chosen fields. It ' s all a sort of tradition. The New Administration ARCHIBALD MacINTOSH Vice-President It befits her regal Anglican dignity that nothing should ever really ehange at Haverford. The face of the sea, always changing, ever constant, may be a vainglorious or debasing metaphor, but comes in- evitably to mind. Even Haverford ' s greatest changes were surface ones. The loss of the former president, the speculation about the new one, were subjects for conversation; but such conversations seldom inv plied or mentioned change. This was indubitably attributable to our consciousness of perfection. Consequently, when in the first Collection after the Winter holidays, Mac, by announcing nothing to the contrary, announced his own assumption of the multitudinous and diverse duties in the empty office, the students reacted with a calm suspiciously akin to indifference. Mac was just as available as ever for dispensing academic largesse, for giving the crucial nod of acceptance to the hand-picked members of the Class of ' 60, and for sharing the loads on various semi-neurotic chests. It was an ap- parent reserve mixed so finely with patent friendli ' ness that made the undergraduates aware that, al- though he could see through them, it was all right — in fact, it was fortunate. The role of the administration as such in the lives of the students is harder to determine. It is true that it didn ' t meddle in those two most delicate areas that are covered by the Honor System, but then, this was mainly due to the Council ' s careful (and oftimes difficult) telepathctic knowledge of what would hap- pen if . . . And of course the students were blandly ignorant of the deliberation and execution of those policies which most essentially shape a Haverford- ian ' s existence. An occasional delegation stormed Roberts Hall, delivered a harangue against Meeting, or parking regulations, and retreated. For the most part, however, they didn ' t meddle in administrative affairs; more because of satisfaction than through a sense of proportion. William Cadbury, the Dean, in spite of nicknames indicating the contrary, w.i .1 genuinely appreciated .ind re- spected m.in. But unfortunately, most of the personal contact .1 Dean has with his students ,ire under auspices mi ire- suggestive of Andrew than Dale Carnegie. This was especially true in a school where, having been so well taught that they are individuals, students tend to think that they .ire. or should be, exceptions (especially tn administra- tive regulations). However, the Dean made less liberal and more valid judg- WILLIAM E. CADBURY, JR. Dean ALDO CASELLI Comptroller Aldo Caselh had the official title of Comptroller. But this was hardly suffi- cient to cover all the means by which he kept the college ' s ledgers in black, a feat which no other man in the world could duplicate. Some students were tempted to credit his skill to cruelty rather than ingenuity, but parking fines and damage fines at 200% cost were matched by the intermittent appearance of new furniture and conveniences. l ine The Statesman The Students ' Council George Keeley presides. On his left W. Newmeyer, T. Martenis, G. Brew- ster, L. Matlack, and at the end of left sit R. Greer, E. Mezger, C. Berlin, P. Allen, and Rick Hill. The long tradition of government by clique was firmly broken by the election of George Keeley to the Presidency of the Students Council. Though George maintained his fine scholastic record to the bitter end, because he also co-captained on the gridiron, the student body felt, for the first time in anybody ' s ken, that grass roots democracy got its chance. Despite his perfect calm in the perpetual cycle of petty crises, George was known to quote (in the privacy of 6th entry Lloyd circles), Don. you really shock me . . . , Regan, you ' ll never make it twice . . . . Cocktails and bridge at four, men! or even, I just love dogs! With the same equanimity he endured. Our Father Who art in 63, hallowed be Thy Council, Sober up, George, here comes Gilbert . . . , Caught a pass once . . . , Josie the new flame? or simply, Dictator! With titles like Most Naturally Humorous in Upper Sixth, Donor of the Water Mug to Gil and Anne, The Threat to Eddie Fisher, and Pop ' s High Hurdler, George is moving from the Executive Suite to win other laurels in Harvard Business School. But whatever his titles in the privacy of 6th entry circles, the real importance of the Keel ' s (alias The Rock) year heading the students ' self-government was that he definitely answered the delicate issue of how aloof a leader must be. That is, he proved to the dismay of a few vested interests on campus that the regular fellas, who had been repressed by the preceding pious regimes, could handle the exagger- ated intricacies of Student Government. Besides, since this year ' s non-commissioned officers were no less representative than any other ' s, he exposed the fallacious distinction between athletes and intellec- tuals at Haverford. As for the business of the year, the High Court, under Chief Justice Ralph Barlow, held surprisingly few inquisitions, thus distressing those who avidly peruse the Council ' s minutes in search of Purge Notices. A Curriculum Committee under Gerald WitlKTspintn discussed and recommended some things. The Honor System Committee and the Cus toms Committee led by Frit; Schwentker impressed upon the freshmen the necessity for honesty, chas- ntv. and self ' righteousness, on campus. There were other committees that discussed and recommended or did things. In short, the status quo was main ' tained with religious, but civil, ferocity. The Honor System Committee Descending the stairway: R. Barlow, Chairman; A. Hunter; R. Forster; M. Abramson; L. Halstead: and D. Mead. The Customs Committee Standing: P. Cable; J. Thomas; J. Crawford; J. Moore; F. Schwentker, Chairman. Sitting: B. Bloch; D. Mead; and V. Averna. The Curriculum Committee Around the table: J. Schott, Chair- man; J. Mikhail; H. Thomas; G. Witherspoon; J. Viney; Hal Fried- man; and J. E. Baker. The Abstract Sciences History and Philosophy Thomas Drake is the head of the History Depart- ment and the sole professor of the history of our fair land. By a happy combination of Quakerliness, friendliness, and provocative teaching, he serves Haverford indispensably. Simply and efficiently he supervises the priceless stock in the Treasure Room. In the classroom discussions, also handled simply and efficiently, he inspires in all but the most callous freeloader a love for books, any book, all books. The occasional but apparently constant assignment of book reports transforms desire in to necessity. His academic forte is the ideological trends in our fair land. His pedagogic forte is his own fine personality. In each class period, it takes Wallace MacCaffrey half an hour of fast talking to list the next reading assignment. After that come the impossible questions: What do you make of this week ' s reading? . . . A small voice asks where a picture of Hugh Capet can be found. Well, try page 207 of Cassier; which of course brings us to the larger question: What is feudalism? Mr. MacCaffrey ' s future wife may be able to keep him from wearing maroon shirts with tweed jackets, but his basic pedagogical method — wide reading and exacting discussion — should survive married life. Unquestionably, it teaches the student an alarming amount of history, and besides, that ' s the way we did it at Reed College. Guess what MacCaffrey said today? I know . . . Cod-pieces went out of fashion by the end of the 19th century. Even when J.B. gleefully bounds in to relate this, or a morbid tale of torture under Casmir II, he is, irrevocably, a gentleman-scholar. From his grand- father ' s shaving brush and his copy of Pennsylvania Finances: 1682 to his recent discovery of B.M.C., J. B. Rhoads suggests a reassuring blend of tradition and spontaneity. To his roommates he is associated with black powder experiments and bounding down the stairs armed with sundry containers of water. But these frequent descents from the ivory tower of scholastic medievalism arc only temporary, and he reascends convinced that history is a firm base for the aspiring physician. The aspiring history teacher must also survive MacCaffrey. Fritz Renken really isn ' t a hermit, he ' s married, having exchanged his ancestral domain tor a third floor hideout with books, hi-fi, cat, and wife. All he has rescued from Ruritania is .1 Tyrol- cm -1.1 it which he is unashamed to wear, although it nuke- him look like an officer, .1 hell-hoy, or just plain friend. Having been in hanking, he could no longer endure the odium of parasite with which his father-in-law stigmatized him; he transferred from University of Pennsylvania and became our German travel agent. For Mike Smith, who doesn ' t even have to worry about surviving MaeCatfrey, the problem is what to do when one does survive. As a sophomore and junior, Mike lived with elder compatriots in student government. So when senior year came ' round and the cabal had vanished into the outer world, he followed as far as he could without getting beyond walking distance of Chase Hall. Still, other adjust- ments had to be made. To replace the fondly remem- bered revels of the Council room, he tried dramatics, journalism, even studies. It was no go. Morose mel- ancholy set in. He snarled at freshmen. He even thought of getting a date. Finally the only thing left to do was graduate, and that Mike did as quickly as possible. The truth which he would never admit was that Mike was too brillant not to get bored with Haverford. Frank Parker was consistently regarded as the campus logician, although it was as much a term of opprobrium to some as of praise to others. By carefully determining wh.it was being said, and clearly explaining its error, he alone justified the glorious claims of the Socratic method. At last word he was writing lucid philosophy, in the sultry Mexican sun. While Professor Parker prepares to publish, Johnathan Bennett, trained in the English tradition of strict logic and thorough scholarship, is replacing him. He more than compensates for making his students think before they write, and even under- stand their subjects, by his warm and sympathetic interest in them, and the pleasure we have in his brisk gait, felicitous witticisms and delightful British accent. Back, this time from India, Douglas Steere again walked amongst us, the incarnation of Quaker Virtue and Love. Because he so well speaks for the peace of mysticism and Christian living he epito- mized both every heretic ' s concept of Christianity ' s faults, and every believer ' s concept of its rewards. Dr. Steere specialized in courses on religious thought which were eagerly attended by those who either didn ' t mind the very penetrating but slightly sub- jective analysis, or welcomed it. If it is not too symbolic to see in this kindly professor, Haverford ' s issue of virtue vs. truth personalized, then in him also we see the issue nobly resolved. The only member of the Philosophy department Thirteen who dared to slant even Stoicism into his own brand of German idealism, was Martin Foss. His lectures entranced the devout, frustrated the opposition, and bored the indifferent. His accent amused or con- fused students. His love of the human spirit (as exemplified in friendship) was either avidly expounded or violently rejected. Hardly any less than the other philosophers, he demanded accurate logic in assigned papers; but a little more than they, he expected this logic to lead to certain specified conclusions. For those who reversed the First Cause, he was the Inspiring Teacher. Paragon of the Inspired Student is Gerald Wither- spoon. Gerry was once a Fundamentalist; now he thinks. He is so devoted to the pursuit of Truth, that the drop of a pin, or over-generalization sends him into a Scholastic fury. Frustrated by the clumsy syllogisms of guiding student government, he retired from the secretari.it, into the more congenial groups like the Philosophy Club, and Mr. Bennett ' s Peripa- tetic scholars. Devoted hardly less to the pursuit of Friendship than of Truth, he displayed at all times the happy smile and attractive personality essential in the truly rounded intellect. Wandering in from McKeesport, Ralph Barlow set his sixth sight upon medical school. By his second year, he had found a better way of life, and plunged into the awaiting arms of the philosophy club and department; thereby quickly elevating himself to the clouds to search for Truth. However, he did come to earth periodically, to manage basketball and tennis and to serve as chairman on the Honor System Committee. Then he would return to the realms of mysticism which disturbed roommates for he often failed to function in carrying out his mundane duties. However, Ralph managed to combine the Ultimate with the More Immediate in sufficient pro- portion- to obtain his A.B. in philosophy. Oppressed by the materialism and impersonality of Harvard, Newell Mack transferred to Haverford, delved into Philosophy, and in spite of its material- ism, majored in Biology. It was no wonder that he found Harvard impersonal; his own affability, sincer- ity, and depth, made superficiality with him im- possible. He studied assiduously, argued perceptively, and lived (except for a disheveled haircut) im- peccably. His hard working with plenty of time for bull sessions, may seem contradictory, but, after all, Isn ' t Truth the synthesis of apparent contra- dictions? Bob Broughton was one of the few fellows who managed to lead a sensible life and enjoy it. The rigors of the Political Science Department taught him the habit of doing his work very thoroughly, rather faithfully, and almost punctually. But the ineluctable complexities of metaphysics enticed him to devote to philosophy the major portion of those hours beside the midnight lamp on Featherbed Lane. Sauntering leisurely over the campus with his bright smile, he habitually trapped his friends in discussions of Descartes or Machiavelli, Malthus or Kant himself. Both his affability and his attitude were summed up in his favorite cliche, It ' s a hard life, but it ' s great. Fourteen The Dubious Sciences Sociology, Political Science, and Economics Unlike many a semester we have seen here, this year the sociology department consisted of, and only of, u- permament members. Ir.i de Augustine Reid, famed tor his sociological jargon and classroom histrionics, presided over the department ' s majors ' lives with an assistance that was often mistaken for compulsion. He was as diligent as ever in the futile attempts to force sociology to be a productive science and to force student- to take it seriously. To the latter end he stuffed them with hundred page assignments to be memorised or burdened them with take lx me exams of infinite length. Representative of the seniors who braved the jargon, work, and eomps. which Dr. Reid ' s spec taeular imagination devised, was Peter Renner. Peter, known to breakfast elubbers as the Grover Whelan of the dining hall, discovered the libidinal pleasures of the mechanical eow in his senior year. He cheerfully demonstrated the strength of his infantile attachment by rising to the tore -even mornings per week. Professing intellectual starva ' tion, Pete transferred from Syracuse at the begin- ning of the junior year to major in social science. Under the influenee of the non-intellectual aspects of the Haverford atmosphere. Pete ' s soeial interest- developed a Freudian angle. Aware of his interest, his roommates provided him with a psychiatrist ' s eoueh to practice on. Pete has been aeeepted at Rochester Medical Sehool, and has plans to practice psychiatry professionally. Dr. Milton Gordon also was addieted to the technical semanties of the behavioral sciences, but depending upon one ' s view of the universe, it was complieated or alleviated by an equal addietion to ' mode- ot expression common to, and charteristic of those who are eommitted to a Christian way of life. Consequently Meeting. Collection, and elassroom were likely to elieit eomments motivated by such addictions. Teaching the methodology of social projects was his best course, probably because he was fond of projects. After all he had thereby found out something about elas- structure. Thus two admirable intellects struggled to make scientific the most dubious science of all. Fifteen The Political Science and Economics Depan have always been characterized by their brilliant, scholarly, and partisan mind-. Each of the pn - fessors, without exception, ha- a personality so vital, dedieated. and distinctive, that it ' - no wonder many a fine humanist i- misguided into reading the Times ' V ' lc.s oj the ' ccl{ m Review instead of the Boo Review. When students refer to Field Haviland as gray, the symbol has nothing to do with mediocrity. It is convenient because with hi- gray straight over- coat and his gray flannel suits, and his serious intense lectures, In- displays a dignity befitting only two professions: diplomat and teacher of diplomacy. He does the latter with an efficiency and disinterest which frightens all but the most avid, or callous, Political Science major. Rut that, of course, doesn ' t stop his pet course in international relations from being the most consistently oversized one in the department outside of Soeial S ienee 11-12. With Red (Herman) Somers away to let somebody else in on the latest developments in Soeial Security. Dr. Haviland presides diplomatically over the only de- partment besides Economies that finds reality and idealism eompatible. One happy day, Andy Scott, the newest addition to the department, discovered that this compatibility occurs only in Democracy, and perhaps on the same day, found that this and all other matters political submit to being diagrammed as a circle with radiat- ing spokes. Fortunately, this revelation did not cause him to retire thereafter in life-long contemplation of its implications. There are tew professors as able as Mr. Scott to deal with students on such a variety of levels from the heights of political theory to the depths of male child-care and m such a strikingly personalized way. Indeed it is only this constant good-will which prevents us from suspecting that having purged his superiors in the Political Science department, he may go on to overthrow Roberts ' Hall and eventually the White House. Not therefore, but nevertheless, John Roehe graduates from Haverford with the Class of 1956. What is the College losing? Certain assets come to mind first: perpetual wisecracking, gleeful de- bunking of small boy fantasies, spectacular and colorful lecturing, and a glorious pair of red sus- penders. Yet it ' s more than jokes and sarcasms that are going up to Massachusetts. Mr. Roche, within the social science fortress of environmentalism, has borne constant witness to the principle that there are still a few articles of belief which are worth getting excited about. This testimony, coming as it does from an extremely hard-headed thinker, will be missed by future generations of well-bred posi- tivists at Haverford. At any rate, a present well-bred positivist, Craig MacKown, has not missed this testimony. He gets excited, therefore, about several absolutes, including modern jazz. Unable to live alone and without room- mates to finance his sporadic social, gastronomical, and musical adventures, MacKown has spent most of his time looking for the next year ' s companions in distress. Baker (J. E.) interested him in Political Science while Douglas (W. B.) talked literature. The next year Hamburger managed to keep Craig from being expelled from the Glee Club while Rosenburger dreamed of returning to Germany and Reeves stalked the wily Chittenden. And this year Doctors Isay, Barrett, and Greer have studied so assiduously that Craig ' s sense of shame drove him to the Union to buy books. He began to frequent the library in order to sleep. But what will become of MacKown without three people to guide him through the trauma of daily life? Why, he ' ll fall back on Political Science, of course. The Economics Department this year improved its already high standards of education and thus emerged from the broadsides of the Haverford Js[ews relatively unscathed. Phil Bell, an extremely hard worker with fingers in several scholastic pies, patiently guided his stu- dents through the maze of macro-economic analysis and the intricacies of Keynesian the ory and mone- tary policy. On an advanced level, a small segment of social science majors absorbed his intensive project course on the problems of economic development. Accounting, for which he is writing a text with a Princeton colleague, continued to be an excellent, compact course integrating accounting processes and economic problems. Chairman Howard Teaf taught labor economic and labor relations to upperclassmen and admin- istered a project on problems of business organiza- tion for ec majors. With the S.T.A. unit he discussed case studies in technical assistance. Holland ( Ho ) Hunter retired from the scene for a sabbatical, shuttling between Harvard, the Library of Congress, and Woodside Cottage, to accumulate more information and statistics on his specialty: Russian railroads. To substitute for Hunter (and Bell next year) Mort Baratz descended from Yale for a two-year sojourn outside the Ivy League. He became labeled quickly as an exacting (that is, rough) and stimulating (this is, philosophizing) teacher. He has the behavioral scientist ' s usual penchant for mix- ing sarcastic humor with lively discussion. For the old Government and Business course, he gave his own ambitious, laborious, and fascinating course on the political and economic issues of Big Business. His overhaul of Government Finance raised it to the level of other department offerings. All three economists combined to run their slightly confused, heterogeneous mob through economic prin- ciples in the disdainfully named Baby-ec course. At this stage those who have not yet given eco- nomics, Teaf, et al. a second thought are scared away from further fiscal tudie and the foolhardy arc forewarned. Whenever two majors met. anywhere, the enjoy- ment of the Coop ' s coffee. Mrs. Nugent ' s meals, or movies in Ardmore, was diluted by a discussion of Smith, Tawney, Schumpeter, or Durbin. But to thwart their professors attempt to make Economics so hard that they could do nothing but study, the ec majors soon learned, more consistently than the majors in any other department, to dip their fingers in extracurricular pies. For example, Don Mead. Don was an unruffled, peaceable young fellow who was often forced by exasperating room- mates to lose his composure ( You dirty guys! ), His retaliations were in good humor and calmly executed, but quite as thorough as the actions that provoked them. As ,m heir to the diminishing KSSO Empire. Don studied economics ( It ' s a science! ) to try to holster its future. His energy .is a student did not, however, prevent him from following many interest of which soccer, Student Christian Move- ments, and Customs Committee .ire only the most characteristic few. A minstrel of high caliber ( Yi -. good stock, fine! ) Don ' s mellow voice accompanied by his gentle guitar was enough to melt any girl — but Bryn M.iwr just wasn ' t worth it. Quietly and efficiently Don will sing a song of success. Then there is Mike Mann who first became famous at Haverford by winning the Class Night Best Aetor Award hut later showed his variety of talent by winning the Middle Atlantic Bridge Tournament. As a deserter from the chemistry labs, he finally saw the inner light in Chase Hall. But even here he found it necessary to remind himself at the be- ginning of each semester. I ' ve got to start getting down to work! Besides being an academician, he was a reporter, athlete, news analyst, debater, actor. and. of course, Bryn Mawr fan. Having been thus trained in the finer things of life, Mike looked for- ward to a long career in the business of banking. Ot Johnson, arriving from Boston without a broad a. considered mathematics as a major, but wisely cast his lot with a more inprecise science. Aside from studies. Ot found time to lend his voice to the Glee Club, to engineer for the radio station, to play soccer, and to develop an aptitude for cards which paid off with a victory in the Middle Atlantic Bridge Tournament. In his sophomore year, Ot transported himself about in a Crosley, but upon finding it one evening in a Barclay hallway, he persuaded himself that walking is fun. Continually threatening to work, Ot managed to approach a reasonable facsimile once in a while, but he was never one to let studies interfere with his broader interests. The apparent exception to this rule of extra- curricular over-activity was John Kemmerer. who. when he returned to Haverford after a spell with the army and the MVD, ensconced himself in a Founders ' room and seemed never to leave it except for an ec reserve book or a Bryn Mawr date. Actually, it was simply that he found all the in- teresting people living in Founders. But in spite of this quasi-isolation. John was known for his impeccable but natural dress and his incredible ability to say nothing in class (or out) that was not pertinent, important, and correct. Sei ' enfeeji The Graduate Group The Social and Technical Assistance Unit was the only graduate program on the Haverford campus. It was designed to equip and then grant M.A. ' s to people preparing for grass roots work in under- developed countries. Primarily at Haverford the students took undergraduate appropriate courses in economics, political science, sociology, and occasion- ally psychology. They also had to write a paper on a subject of practically unlimited choice. Then, instead of the usual trip to an Indian reservation for field work they went to Puerto-Rico to prepare another paper. Dr. Hetzel had directed the program, hut during the fall semester of 1955 he was on sabbatical and, oddly enough, Dr. Reid was not. Dr. Reid worked them slavishly and then took them to the location of his own demographic specialty, Puerto Rico, to continue the fiasco. Since the members of the program came neither from Quaker nor Ivy League schools, and since they made the common mistake of speaking sin- cerely in classes, among the undergraduates, they and their work were summarily dismissed as un- realistic and mediocre. Though this opinion was was ill considered, it is probable that a thought- ful observant would have substantially agreed. At any rate, since the inception, the plan has faced an annual danger of interment. The cause of its annual salvation is also perhaps its basic weakness. It attempts to fill an extensive, im- portant, and ignored a gap in the subject. Few international social workers are aware of the cul- tural factors, the psychological problems, and the sociological implications of the economic assistance they are bestowing. The STA course tries to provide insight of that sort and economic sophistication as well. The general agreement that it fails is based on the amount that the grad students do learn here, and the small number of them who actually go into this work when they leave. This year ' s class is an exception. They are intelli- gent, and they are quite likely to go into related fields. Wanda Burks, a smiling and pretty econo- mist from the University of Michigan, is already arranging to work in India next fall. Nancy Lellep, whose interests are serious, sincere, and wide, is going to work with foreign juvenile delinquents. Fin Hornum has a friendliness and perception ad- mirably fitted for his work in the international Lisle Fellowship Program. Yutaka Ishiyama is an engineer who intends to train his fellow Japanese in Ameri- can techniques. The point is, when the students can use this course, they don ' t need it. Eighteen Soccer The seniors on the soccer field give a good cross- section oi those individuals who so well defended Haverford ' s goal. Preeminent was the co-captain, Lamar Woanicki. The flexible tongue of this springy- legged fugitive from Merion spouts forth sueh wisdom as Inaccessible wisdom riding to lateral fruitions of negligible mass . . . ' any time about almost anything. Sueh likes are likely to be spoken in a Spanish accent because his avidity for knowl- edge almost equals his avidity for sehnapps, soeeer, and sounds (e.g. Brubeck). Woz gets steamed up about a lot of things and eannot be subdued with- out being satisfied. This intensity has pushed him forward until his urd oos have become accessible and blossoming into fruition of no negligible mass. In spite of ln challenging violence on the soccer field, Jim Baker has a typically Quaker love for his fellow man which he concealed with intermittent caustic remarks on everything from one ' s personality to one ' s home town. Although he deplored those stupid jocks on campus he incessantly displayed his letter. But he adopted such inconsistency only be- cause it made for interesting conversation and, bent on a career in international relations, he felt he should cultivate cynicism. Brains and goofs called him a grind because it once was proven that he studies, but. however it might be disdained, it ' s true, he does. The ferocity characteristic of soccer itself, and its players, is exemplified by Bruce Pearson. Bruce TSjineteen approach .1 night with hooks, a date at B.M.C.. and a tryst on the field all with the intensity of a socialist and the intentions of a capitalist. His so- journ in Paris was not, obviously, spent entirely in the Louvre, for its consequences were manifest mainly in a wisdom about the French and a maturity about life. As is customary for those who find they are too mature for dorm life, he roomed off campus in his senior year. As is customary for those who major in French, he was seared (unnecessarily), by M. M. Gutwirth. The spirit of intensity which drives Han Broek- man viciously across a soccer field, impels him no less in the forensic exercise of debiting and obstruct- ing in the Intercollegiate Conference on Govern- ment, that refuge of would-be politicians. Fulfilling the Hollywood inspired requirement of being tall, Jark. affable, and tweedy, Han. unlike most Haver- fordians, managed to fascinate the feminine half of the STA contingent more than he distressed them. Perhaps it was the lure of Dutch nobility behind his expressive eyes, more likely it was his excellence which surprisingly, gave him much in common with his phil major roommates. The winning record of the soccer team this year ( wins. 4 losses) was nothing new or surprising to Coach Jimmy Mills. Liked and respected by even- member of the team to the man. he put them through the laps, leapfrogs, and trapping drills that turned individuals into a highly respected soccer team. They always managed to keep him chewing nervously on his cigar by moving easily from the beautiful coordination of the first few minutes of the Navy game to the sloppy and erratic play against Princeton. Bothered by a pulled leg-muscle, graduating co- captain Lamar Woznicki give the team skillful and spirited leadership from the outside right position. His three scores in the Muhlenberg game, started the league play off on the right foot. Lou Matlack, the other co-captain, turned in consistently good soccer in the wing-half spot. This Haverford repre- sentative on the all-conference team was the pivot man of many key plays all season. Clive Coroneos, shifted from the coffin corner to center half this year, easily took over the role of being the rock of the defense from Jim Bradbeer. His line play in the Lafayette game demonstrated that tricky ball handling ability supplemented his defensive savvy. Dan Wills developed the goal-sense he needed to make him a consistently good last line of defense. His unorthodox and fearless style of coming out for a loose ball made him respected by teammates and opponents alike. Up from the J.V. ' s Rick Hill made a good record for himself, at left full back. Twentx-one Tom Van Arkel filled the other full hack spot, turn- ing in a good season in spite of a pulled leg muscle. Jim Baker rivalled Matlack for skill and con- sistency as the other half hack. The forward line was well-balanced. Each of the starting five scored either four or five goals during the season. Center- forward Paul Hodge turned in his best record against Temple, where he hit the nets three times. Han Broekman turned in two against Temple, and two more against U of P. Bruce Pearson scored in each of five games, showing some particularly good ball-handling against Lafayette. Frank Versaci was credited with seven assists during the season, to lead the team m that department, besides getting four counters of his own. The Temple game was an important one for the Fords. With two all- Amerieans playing for them, and a powerful record in the last few years, they were a team to beat. Our 7-3 victory was a feather in our caps. Another one we were gunning for was Navy; we started out at Annapolis by showing our ability to outplay them, only to relax for a while; they took advantage of this to push ahead and win 4-2. Having won all of our league games going into the Hood trophy match, the team had a real desire to come out on top; but inconsistent playing, strong opposition, and two inches of snow combined to give Swarthmore the win. Coach Mills was blessed with a strong bench this year, which he used freely and effectively. Such substitutes as Dick Forman, Mike Roloff, Allen Fischer, and Jim Morris turned in some good soccer when called upon. These stand-bys will be invaluable next year, when captain-elect Clive Coroneos has good prospects for a good season. Cross Country The Cross Country Team was the only fall squad to post .1 losing record. Hurt by graduations and i late start in practice, Pop Haddleton ' s runners won only two dual moot-, lost tour (including the Swarthmore meet), and were fourth in .1 pent- angular meet with Philadelphia college teams. At the Middle Atlantic Championships— our young squad slipped from fourth to eighth in the league. Three sophomore letter winners, Captain-elect Dave Now lis, Larry Schumpert, and Myles Johnson, along with freshman Sandy Phillips, should provide .1 nucleus for a much stronger team during the next tw( 1 : For the 1 95 5 season. Bob Gage, ' 56, was Captain, and Rob Challener, ' 57, was manager. 1955 SEASON RECORD 14 — Haverford. 21— Haverford. 28 — Haverford. 4 — Haverford. 8— Haverford. 11— Haverford. 19— Haverford. Saint Joseph ' s 21 Univ. of Pcnn 37 LaSalle 79 Temple 133 Albright 34 P.M.C 45 Lafayette 28 Lehigh 20 Delaware 22 M.A.C.T. orF.C. (Eighth Place) Swarthmore 24 First row: Joel R. Lowenthal, H. Alexander Phillips, O. Lamar Schumpert, Robert J. Gage (Capt.), David P. Nowlis, Daniel E. Parker, Myles A. Johnson. Second row: Henry J. Dane, David R. Baker, Newcomb Greenleaf, Coach Alfred W. (Pop) Haddleton, Robert C. Chal- lener (Manager), Frederick Shaw, Joel A. Tobias, Arthur McLean, Hugh S. Ogden, Robert A. Seeley. Tirentv-three wM ' Mm 38 39, 1 1 y ■HH ' $0y Football Am. ' J hugs, handshakes, and hurrahs, the 1955 football team celebrated a dual triumph. They plowed through snow and Swarthmore to the tune of 13-6 which enabled them to post a winning season log of four victories against three defeats. The Swarthmore victory climaxed a thrill-studded campaign which opened at Staten Island, New York, against Wagner College. Unveiling a new quarterb ack, Mark Randall, the Fords displayed power, speed, and a rugged forward wall in defeat- ing the heavier Seahawks, 7-6. On the first play from scrimmage, Don Cohill, a real spitfire, pounced on a Wagner fumble on the loser ' s 30-yard line. Co-captain and slugging fullback Bill Ortman rammed to a first down on the Wagner 20. Quarter- back Randall then sent speedy Don Hopkins wide to the eight. The next play saw Ortman hit paydirt for the season ' s first score. Tom Martenis, center and rugged linebacker, split the uprights with what proved to be the deciding point. The following Saturday, the Fords took on Juniata College before a fine home-coming crowd. Un- defeated for two successive seasons, the Indians from Huntingdon, Pa., displayed a consistent attack and edged the scrappy Haverford eleven, 7-0. Ted Robinson, talented freshman end from Haverford High, junior guard Joe Torg. and mammoth Skip Block shone in defeat for the Fords. With a 1-1 slate, the squad invaded Ursinus College for their next engagement. The combination of rain, mud and the Ursinus whammy sent the Fords to their second defeat, 12-6. The Bears ' heavier line operated to advantage under the exist ' ing conditions though the deciding factor was a sparkling sprint by Bear speedster, Bob Famous. Guard Bill Sayles suffered a broken nose in the second quarter but returned to action brandishing a nose guard. The fine running of Hal Weaver and the solid defensive play by end co-captain George Kecley were inspirational in an otherwise effete performance. Twenty-four A w.ck later the itinerant Ford eleven travelled to Clinton, New York, to take on the undefeated Hamilton College. This time the weather was per- fect but the Fords encountered other misfortunes. The heretofore stubborn Haverford defense com- muted two costly error-. By virtue of these, .1 stunned Ford squad left the field 20 points down .it half-time. In .ill fairness it should be noted that Bill Sayles suffered a career-ending concussion early in the second quarter which contributed great!} to the first ' half nightmare. In genuine Rockne- t ' ashion. the Ford- vowed to play the Second halt ' tor the toughest kid on the field. Rill. For the final two quarters the inspired Haverford eleven played like men possessed. Mark Randal] grabbed the kickoff and behind crunching blocks raced 67 yards to the Hamilton 22-yard line. Four plays later, Randall bolted over from the four. The defense, sparked by the fine play of Jerry Gunster who subbed for the injured Sayles. completely foiled the Hamilton offense. Again Randall led the Fords to ,1 score as he chucked a 2 -yard scoring pass to end, John Crawford. Hamilton, visibly on the ropes, held the hall for the remaining three and a half minut es as they defeated the hustling Fords, 20- 13. The coaching staff made good use of the open date as the squad prepped for powerful Union College of Schenectady. In what will go down as one of the greatest upsets in Haverford gridiron his- tory, the gutty Ford eleven topped the New Yorkers 19-13. Joe Torg recovered a Union bobble early in the first period and the Fords took full advantage by moving for an early score. Mark Randall passed to Ted Robinson on the twelve. From there the Fords drove to the one where Ortman dove for six. The p.a.t (point after touchdown) was missed and Haverford led. 6-0 Fierci tai kling I lord- forced the Union hack- to tumble frequently. Again the Scarlet and Black benefiting by Skip Blo k ' - recovery, reached the end-zone. This in drive was -parked by the running of Don Cohill and Bill Ortman. Cohill climaxed the sus- tained thrust with an eight-yard T.I), dash. Dan N.iuman added the point and the Fords led at half-time. 13-0. A surprised but determined Union -quad took the field tor the Second half. Again they were forced to fumble. John ( ' raw ford recovered. With Ortman and Cohill grinding out yardage and Randall connecting twice in the air. the tally came to 19-0. Union then began to move. By virtue of two deliberate drive- they tore through the tired Ford eleven, bringing the score to 19-13. Again, however, the Scarlet and Black rose to the occasion and held the visitors on even terms to the final whistle. Cohill, playing the finest game of his career, led the Fords attack with 81 yards in Twenty-five 12 carries. But this mure than any other was a team victory, and almost a Pyrrhic one, in that Skip Ralph incurred an inju ry which demobilized him for the remainder of the season, and Bill Ortman suffered a badly broken nose. With an excellent chance for a winning season, the Fords met Susquehanna University on Walton Field. The spirited giant-killers proceeded to tune up for Swarthmore. Compiling a total offence of 248 yards, the Fords easily defeated the visitors, 22-7. Don Hopkins opened the scoring in the first pe- riod with a 12 -yard sprint off left tackle. A blocked punt by Crawford set-up the score. Don Cohill pilfered an enemy aerial, arranging another touch- down which was made from the one. Nauman con- verted, making the score 13-0, Haverford. The second half saw the Ford eleven add nine points by virtue of a touchdown and a safety. Dan Nauman was responsible for the latter when he trapped the visitor ' s Bob Foster behind the enemy goal line. Ted Regan, converted from quarter-back to half-back, took a Randall pitch-out and raced 50 yards for the Fords ' final counter. Again Nauman added the point. Susquehanna then scored their only tally against our reserves. The second backfield of Bill Harvey, Sandy Wieland, and Sell Walton, marched 80 yards against the visitors, but the time ran out. Then came the snow, Swarthmore, and the tra- ditional Quaker bowl. Haverford. now 3-3, needed Twenty six a victory to give them a winning season as well as a Hood trophy point. Undaunted by the weather and playing with a patched up but valiant line, the Fords pounded the Garnet more solidly than the 13-6 score would indicate. Led by the scintillating runs of Bill Ortman, the punting of Hal Weaver, and the inspired line play of the entire front seven, the Scarlet and Black gave the departing seniors a memory to cherish. Ortman scored both touchd owns — one on a brilliant 50-yard sprint. Freshman Andy Green and junior Pete Zavitz filled in for the injured Bill Sayles and Skip Ralph in magnificent fashion. Skip Block, playing with a cracked breast bone, was a wall. Torg was, as usual, an animal. The ends, Robinson and Crawford, per- formed admirably. Every man gave his best and his best was great. After the season Joe Torg and Skip Block were elected co-captains. Bill Ortman and Hal Weaver were co-recipients of the Ada Stephen award, sym- bolic of the qualities of leadership, loyalty, and just plain good football. Hal was the strong silent type, and while this was a disadvantage in sociology courses, it was a well respected quality on the grid- iron. The difference is that action rather than talk is desired in football. The leadership qualities which won the admiration of his teammates also won it among his classmates. He was their president, and vice president. He was on the Customs Committee and the Students ' Council. When on vacation from football in the spring, he used the field to hurl the discus. The secret of his popularity was that he could translate his athletic ferocity into academic casualness. Bill. Rock, Ortman was God ' s gift to women, Roy Randall. Red Somers, 10th Entry, and the U. S. Marines. He was also Dan the Coop-man ' s favorite target. He ' s looking for the man who nominated him for Little All-American and for a chance to build his dream house — with mirrored walls. Being a real pass-a-fist, possibly the missing link, with a Bea in his Bonnet, he was the team ' s mainstay as much psychologically as athletically. Ted Regan, who switched from quarterback to halfback this year, was perhaps the spitfire of the team. He played every game of his career at Haverford with a ferocity that hinted of Marine training and esprit de corps, but proved a knowledge and love of football. Ted applied the same enthusi- asm to coping with the antics of his roommates, to goofing off in 10th Entry, and if really necessary, to studying. The ebullient personality that kept 64 Lloyd in a delightful state of turmoil, well stood for the dynamic living Haverford tries to cultivate. Such was the football season, and such the men that produced it. T went x- seven swarthmore Weekend Friday night is flick night, when books are thrown under the beds, carpets dusted, wood supply laid in, and the State Water Store consulted. Dates as usual, though a mere warm-up for Saturday. Saturday comes in a bubble of spiritual aspiration, carnal lust, and pride of ownership, all buoyed up by Swarthmore ' s defe at on a snow covered field. Our bodies are dampened, but high spirits thaw cold finger tips. S.iturday night formals sway and crinoline whispers to song; sentimental, loud, bom- bastic and sentimental again, with hoarse throats humming or throbbing, perspiring hands clasped, warm cheeks touching, hair fresh and clean — until Goodnight Ladies announces the end with a strange lifting and saddening of moods. Rush back to Leeds over snow, to where a fire speaks brightly in the hearth, Dave Brubeck pul- sates from a corner, and couches are chosen, accord- ing to seniority. Formals disappear and khakies and flannel shirts lounges comfortably. Marsh bounds happily into the store room and drags back his string bass, a metal tub with ski- pole and string attachment. Rich takes his gift- fiddle down from the wall, while Fred expertly mixes cheap exotic waters in his room (Phyllis watching Marsh drawing the nylon cord to proper tautness); Andy and Naomi sit non-committally in their comfortable corner, the oldest pair, approving. And then The Saints begins, Marsh violently thumping the bass, one foot on the tub holding it down, cigarette listlessly dropping from his mouth, his head intense. Rich ' s eyes bulge, his lips pro- truding like a Ubangi, supporting a rigid cigarette, and blond hair bouncing with the rhythm of his foot pounding the floor. Phyllis, bewildered, watches Fred sing, who can ' t sing, but looks like a casual baritone, standing with glass in one hand; the other gestures as a trombone players. Andy and Naomi still sit. Merry watches Marsh thumping. Suzy struggles to hold her descant true in the melee of discord of hoarse throats yelling, free, comfortable, and joyous. Marsh abandons his bass and turns to Merry; Fred softl) recites poetry to Phyl (or it may be his critique of William Faulkner), Andy and Naomi sit non ' committally in their corner. Rich softly strums Saint James Infirmary, relaxed in Suzy ' s e.ire. Andy .irises and throws some newspaper on the tire. It flares to vulgar brightness and he turns off the lights. As the fire dies. Rich softly, languidly, picks out ' The Birth of the Blues. and the furni- ture looms Mack on a dull red background. At 12:45 Sunday morning, the four stand in a steam filled shower, luxurious and pleasurable to tiredness. Good time? Rich asks Marsh. Great! Marsh hoarsely answers. The best! Bitching — just hitching! The Haverford News A brilliant journalistic star in the academic firma- ment, the Haverford J ews, is rapidly becoming synonymous with semi-literate reporting and in- comprehensible editorials. After each issue, small knots of students gather to glance ove r the first and third page headlines and puzzle over the black smudges that, by their captions, are identified as photographs. The Haverford mighty tremble lest the editors of the T ews cry against injustices in the weekly rousing editorial, and the humble are comforted by the knowledge that, after they have been graduated, their every move will be mis- reported in the alumni column. Each Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday night, a few people can be found in the Thews ' room in Union until well after midnight, busily counting words, making headlines, and attempting to give a suggestion of literacy to the articles. The paper goes to bed Thursday afternoon, with the editor and a few overworked members of the board on hand to check over the galleys, help set type, bully the printers into making corrections, and invert a paragraph or two if things seem to be going too smoothly. Dur ing the past year, this complicated operation has fallen under the guidance of Burtt Richardson, who came to Haverford a Freshman and left a Senior, although no one knows quite how. In the course of this distinguished career, editorship of the l [ews descended on him from the Packardian Heaven, and untrammeled chaos ensued for all con- cerned. Deadlines were set and joyfully ignored, meetings were called and hastily run through, and yet, out of the disorder came a consistent stream of rewarding issues of the Haverford J [ews. In fact, Burtt has found his year of newspaper work so fascinating that he plans a life-long career in Medicine. Assisting him in the more prosaic but all too essential financial aspects, was Jack Dick. Though Jack ' s name is a source of confusion to professors and students alike, with the result that a few Dick Jacks inevitably crop up from time to time, he himself could never be accused of carelessness of a similar nature. However, while his positions as Thirty Business Manager of both the Vies and the Record require no small amount of coolheaded efficiency, Jack is the executive type only when the situation warrants it. Always affable, he is an inveterate whistler, and gives every appearance of enjoying to the fullest not only his extracurricular activities — as well as schoolwork but life in general. Jack ' s roommate. George Anderson, aeted for the T ews as Managing Editor under the Packard regime of L954, during which time he became an accomplished reviewer of literary and theatrical en- deavors. But it was through the extended Profs in Profile series that his chief laurels were won. A dedicated English major, George is a source of joy to his professors who constantly marvel at his ability to hand m all assignments with unheard of punctuality. His bent for creative writing was exhibited in his contributions to the Revue and in whispered aspirations regarding the JSjeif Yorker. The RECORD, too. has employed his indispensable literary talents. Coupled with his easy southern sophistication, George ' s appreciation ot the arts in general lend him an air of cultivated dignity as un- affected as it is charming. In spite of the talent of its staff, the H.ews, like many other campus activities, suffers from the stu- dents ' subconscious comparison with its professional counterparts. A- tin Glee Club shouts Bach chorals like hearty college cheers, so the X[ews blithely patterns itself on the A[en Tor Times by spelling Lester Hayworth ' s name five different ways. The amateurishness has varied with different administra- tions, but an organization which frequently depends on the hasty jottings of freshmen who are about to quit the staff must often fall on its face. It is surprising, therefore, that the paper continues to take itself so seriously. Nevertheless, it succeeds in providing the alumni with a place to display their occupational success, the general student body with a weekly calendar of Philadelphia events, and the occasional would be with a little journalistic experience. Thirty-one Steph and Steve, co-editors, co-editing. Our Literary Lights . . . spelled R-E-V-U-E After four years of marginal survival in the atmosphere of down-to-earth Haverfordian pragma- tism, the only literate publication around decided to join forces with Bryn Mawr esthetes. (They prob- ably prefer to leave off the initial a. ) Over there, it seems, mi ire pei iple think they can write. Besides, others are willing to read what ' s been written. So, in the winter came the first issue of the Bryn Mawr- Haverford Review. Feminists noted that 60 ' f of the contributions came from our sister school. Critics mentioned the fondness for stream-of-consciousness technique, ornamental diction, and over-drawn imag- ery in the poems. A few pseudos claimed that there was no poetry. But no one can read this year ' s Revue without rejoicing in this outlet for collegiate experimentation and expression. Unlike many another publication, one need not be patronizing in order to enjoy it. And since the new volume is bigger and costs more, it sold much better than usual. Without daring (from our own vulnerable position) to be snide, we can say that it is a good — and winning — cause. The bespectacled half of the Revue editorial team is Steve Sieverts, who holds the dubious distinction of having belonged to more losing causes than any other man in Haverford history. Having read in Dr. Kinsey ' s book that men pass their prime at the age of nineteen, he is agonizingly aware of approach- ing old age, and is out to reform the world before it catches up with him. Unfortunately, this usually sets him to barking up hollow trees. In the meantime, he has spent four years adding his ready and waver- ing forced tenor to the glee club ' s forces, and has meandered in and out of a myriad of other campus activities, leaving untouched only the Varsity Club and the Facutly Women ' s Club. The unbespectacled half of the Rei ' ue team is Stephan Chodorov, possessor of a lot of books, blue sweaters, and things. Soon after age nineteen he left America for the University of Munich, became aware of the fact that one ' s prime is a Ding an sich, and subsequently returned to Bryn Mawr (and Haverford) to enjoy it. Switching from a Physics to a German major, he was nevertheless happy, and managed to spend time writing play-reviews of questionable sincerity for the K[ews, some stories, and a Class-Night show. Not nearly as interested in reforming the world as enjoying it, he is also not shy when it comes to talking about it. Thirty-two The Haverford Radio Station, known grandilo quently and euphemistically as WHRC. wa not ingenious enough in L956 to make news revolving around the disappearance oi vast sums ol money Rather, its genius was of .1 mechanical nature. expressing itself in the acquisition oi all sorts of incomprehensively complicated machinery of a necessity and a utility dubious to all but the engi- neering elite. A sophomore, Dick Rauch, (whose former connection with Bell Telephone was a good deal more affable than that of a few graduated WHRC men) practically revamped the control room with devices of every conceivable variety. A member of the engineering elite was Joseph L. Horner, more casually known as just plain Joe, who forsook the Pennsylvania Bible Belt along with Diek Raueh and Bill Murray in order to spread Carlisle eulture to Bob Wallace and Richard Cohen. and to wear Bermuda shorts without moral reproba- tion. His capacities .1- a physicist and skill as an engineer, coupled with his youthful experience toy- ing with hi-fi and ham radio, and his manual dex- terity as a violinist, have equipped him creditably for fulfillment of his life ' s ambition — to keep smiling at jeers at his bridge skill, to have faith in the un- certainty principle, and to set up a Bryn Mawr harem in Founders. As for what WHRC presented, continuing its legalized plagarizing of programs from Philadelphia ' s only good music station, WFLN, WHRC beamed out stuff for several daylight hours. During the evening it was relatively more original. There was good music from eight to nine, usually, and then, when presumably the students who liked that M Oi tare were in bed, at ten. Usually, real nm like calypso came on. Panel discussions, drama, and assorted other innovations were rare enough to 1 known only to the participants and theii rooi These participants and announcers were a wholly different breed from the engineers; often they were fellows whose catholicity of taste was inspired by autonomy rather than anomie. Lew Woodham, for instance, had probably the most well-rounded per- sonality on campus. Struck with the awe of a nuke and late evening broadcasts. Lew early joined the ranks of the stalwart WHRC (then called 680) staff members. Receiving his training under Mor- rison, Carpenter, and Singh, he rapidly ran the gauntlet of positions from remote engineer to classical emcee. Entering during a confused and dis- orderly period in the history of the station. Lew- strove with the other pioneers like Joe Horner and Bill Momsen, to create some stability in the chaos. Elevation to the Board position of Program Direc- tor permitted him to deal with the personnel in- consistencies and failures seemingly so characteristic of the radio station. Later he handled publicity and some of the intermittent special program producing. In his senior year Lew withdrew from campus organizations and marked his entrance into the social sphere by such milestones as the discovery of women, a car on campus, and culminating in his share in the Paradise Suite of Merion apartments. w H R C Thirty-three The Sophomore Class Though some might think it a tragic comment to say so, the Class of 19VS, with its abundance of pre-meds, hi-fi lovers, Bryn Mawr devotees, and frustrated Grace Kelly fans, is a fairly typical band of Haverfordians. Among the activities of this class (which, of course, regards itself as illustrious) was the Sopho- more Dance, Chez Potiron d ' Or, which featured a Parisian atmosphere, wine bottles as candle holders, the diversity of costume inevitable at Haverford dances, and a risque band of gypsy musicians known vaingloriously as Rhythm Inc. In addition, the octet was quite successful with its charming and artistic renditions of such universal favorites as Mad Dogs and Englishmen and The Hottest Gal in Town. It was a lively evening and everyone was glad that the committee had had the foresight to give the night an extra hour by expeditious use of conventions about daylight and saving time. Transcending class activities, however, arc the per- sonal activities of the members of a class. As indi- viduals. Sophomores may be seen translating Diderot. or perusing Freud in the Bryn Mawr Coffee Gallery, or racing down the soccer field viciously pursued by foreigners, or playing hall soccer with a tennis ball in Barclay. They may be found on the Drama Club stage, or in BMC bound MGs, or in Saturday ' s Chem lab. They reveal themselves in Humanities classes, in dining room seminars on religion, and occasionally in Meeting. In state of transition, the Sophomores are charting their courses. With confidence, they look back on past achievements; with restlessness they eye the days when they will be out in the world on their own. The grass is always greener. . . . It ' s tradition, sort of. Thnty-fo Dan. a former professional tapdanccr, was trying to close up tin Coop .it eleven, ,-p, the theoretic closing time, when Hank Farlow stormed down the steps and shouted JL imperiously for a snuggle-bunny and coffee. The automatic expression of violent martyrdom crossed Dan ' s face and he seemed about to say. How could you possibly TUT be so cruel, so heartless, but he growled, Too late, closing. Don ' t argue with me. It ' s no use. Too late. I ' m supposed to be out of here by eleven, not just beginning -•-, to ,le.m up. Would you be willing to work tor nothing? Certainly not. I ' m nobody ' s JLj fool. I won ' t serve you after eleven o ' clock. Well how about a little coffee then, huh ' . ' It won ' t take you two seconds. Please, Dan. Hank waited until Dan was almost through pouring the coffee before he asked tor the Tastycake. You ' re a great guy, Dan. thanks a lot. he said without I the slightest hint of conviction. Spilling the coffee from the glass green cup all over his shiny black motor- y—v cycle jacket. Hank walked in to the tables. There were seldom many students in the VJ Coop lite on Wednesday nights. Tonight there were only Roger Dietrich and Peter Malory. Hank shrugged visibly and joined them. Roger wa- saying, No, no, no! I 1 Your ' re confusing prime substance with essential form. When I said essence I was deliberately ignoring the possible dichotomous definition in order to say something -ry without saying it. and not to say something without refusing to say it. -t Very seriously Hank said, Oh. but you must never do that. Passing over the purportedly comic intrusion, may I still venture to suggest that, whereas the distinction between substance and form may have had validity in .in era like the Middle (and dark) Ages, in which all philosophy was based on the assumption of the Platonic ideal, nevertheless, in the modern world, where Aristotelian teleology is just as current (assuming as I do, that all philosophers can be divided into good and bad Aristotelians and Platonists) as the various metamorphosed forms of idealism (yeah, Dan, I ' m almost finished) if not more so: in such a world your original question, in attempting to find the essence of coop-ness, (a quest which, of course, I sanction as being perfectly laudatory) you err in proposing the distinction . . . Peter interrupted, Oh. yes. but you know. I ' m sure the Fossophy department exaggerates the role of Greek Philosophy, and unduly impresses the weaker students ' minds with its importance. No, no. no! Roger said expansively. But he was thoroughly delighted. Hank touched his index finger to his lip and drew an invisible line in the air. They all laughed. Because someone was coming into the coop, they laughed more. Taking a table at the other end of the room, Joe was saying to Don, It was really smooth. Three speakers, one twelve-inch and two eight-inch. Magnetic cartridge and diamond needle, of course. Fairchild cartridge, I think. But only a Garrard changer. He ' s going to get a Gray tone arm and a Scott turntable for it. The whole thing in one eight-foot mahogany cabinet, so it ' s big enough for a sixteen-inch disc! Well, if you ' ll pardon me. fellas. Hank said, rising lazily from his chair, I ' m a little more interested in the secondary matter comprising hi-fi. After he crushed his cigarette in Peter ' s paper plate, he went over to Joe and Don. I ' m sorry he left so quickly, Roger said. I wanted to ask him whether he listened to hi-fi for the sound or the music. Hank didn ' t hear. He joined Joe and Don just as Richard came in, pulled up two chairs, and sitting on one, placed his white-bucks-feet in the other. Dammit, I ' ve spilled coffee on my List clean Brooks-Brothers shirt. They laughed. Actually it was spilled on his khakis. Bio lab was really great today. Someone hid Gerry ' s fish and he cursed like a fiend. He threatened to bust jaws and tear up everybody ' s work, I nearly cracked my sides laughing, he was just in the middle of a sentence when he looked up and in the doorway there was Loewy scratching his head, I could have died. Gerry sputtered and stammered and finally Harry Lawrence gave him back the fish and Gerry said I might have known, and Harry said not me, surely you don ' t think . . . and Gerry said I da . . . and then he remembered Loewy and stopped, he had to say something, so he said, well, see that it doesn ' t happen again. Hank had finished his coffee, so when Don began another story, he got up. On his way out he passed Wither ' s talking about the honor system and Murrison complaining about a chem exam. Any leaf left on the trees will stay there until Spring. Autumn ' s dead and gone on into Winter. Why it has already snowed twiee: there have been two Barclay snowball fights. Besides, soccer and football and cross country all ended over a month ago. And now that it ' s getting colder, my crazy scarf. my red and black, Haverford, woolen, scarf that I wore only to games before. now I can wear every day. Now that it ' s Winter. Christ, that snow was neat on the pine trees! Looking out the window of Chase I, you can sec that huge one with branches that bend like a willow ' s. Much more fascinating, I must admit, than the exigencies of foreign policy under Elizabeth I. Anyway, I ' m tired of classes. even MacCaffrey ' s. I need a rest, a change, and a vacation, and a chance to do that term paper for Field on the exigencies of foreign policy under Truman. And I ' m afraid I ' m much more interested in personal policy, at Bryn Mawr; spec ifically, Anne, and how she ' ll like my New Year ' s party. I don ' t think I ' ll wear my scarf home, it ' s much too . . . too collegiate. Thirty WINTER The Languages German All German is divided into three parts: Kelly, Pfund, and Cary. Among them they teach Deutsch to vast hordes of unsuspecting Studenterei. From saga to Lager, the German scene is purveyed, with special emphasis on Goethe ' s women — and Brun- hilde ' s trappings. Some young men come upon this information because Medical schools feel they need to, others because their sense of humor leads them to believe they want to. Das Ende vom Liete is that five majors and any number of minors have found a refuge in the homes and offices which the depart- ment maintains in the Haverford community. In one corner, hailing from the South, leading the field in seniority, knowing all the men of German literature as a personal friend, and beating the biographical drums for his nearest and dearest, is John Kelly. In his possession are a large automobile, a large piano, a large unsorted collection of Zachary Taylorians, and a genuinely warm love of students, humor, and a combination thereof. It is generally believed that if Professor Emeritus Kelly does not at once know a fact, any fact, it is because he con- siders it worthy of being forgotten. Harry Pfund, the Chairman of the department, not only teaches a slew of courses on every period of literary history, but also is a member of virtually every German organization, charitable and learned, in the western world. He is not afraid of hard work or hard heads, and has taught the language to some people who could not possibly have learned it. Dr. Pfund has a solid mien, a perfect rolled r, and a charming family; if anyone knows where the Nibelungen horde is sunk, he is the man. John Cary, quite recently arrived on the Haver- ford campus as a member of the faculty, is to be found in his increasingly modernistic office, or at home with some small children. He brings to the daily scene a Tischgesellshaft, and pleasant memories of Munich and Nietzsche with a smile. Jack (John S.) Barrett, spiritually descended from Futhark, has majored in Heinz Phund, Henry Pfund, Goethe, and Thomas Mann. An intrepid pre-med, he has seen fit to liberalize his Lebensanschauung by frequent sortees to the Chem lab. and by minute scrutinizing of a Squalus Acanthus named Joe. Jack sublimated his early campus interest in air rifles, firecrackers, and water fights, by good works as a pious monk in a Class Night show and as a Service Fund heeler in his senior year. His outlook on his future profession can best be seen in his classic statement, I say, if you go to Lambarini, so will I! Spanish The student .it any college is affected strongly by the personalities of his professors, many of whieh have greater results in the student ' s learning than the subject matter of the courses. In many cases, however, the professor in and out of the classroom presents two personalities. Mr. Manuel Asensio, or the Seiior, as he is known at Haverford, has never confronted the student with the problem of adapt- ing to two different or opposed facets of character. Moreover, his understanding of students stems from his understanding of people; his genius for working out arguments between students is common knowl- edge. This emphasis on the welfare of others and on the friendly relationships among his charges in Spanish House sets a contagious example. His warmth is an ideal example of the felicity which some suggest should be the basis of collegiate edu- cation. Although neither he nor the Seiiora, who teaches at Swarthmore, is Quaker, together they live the Quaker ideal. A natural simplicity and a lack of affectation make them the traditional genial hosts. In a true Spanish fashion, their house is always yours. But it is a hospitality which depends less on any tradition than on sincere friendliness. There is further testimony to the Senor ' s good nature and selflessness which can t be overempha- sized, for it is the first and most lasting impression one remembers of him: he teaches more semester hours than he gets paid for. This is more than devotion to his job, it is the way he lives. This kind of philosophy does not come from books, but with hard experience comes from trust in human nature. The Senor ' s good nature was delighted by the youthful personalities of the guests he housed up- stairs. Jim, Guy, and Norman were a dominant trio in the senior quintet. Jim Viney ' s was in many ways the archetype of the collegiate life. He scanned the range of subjects from Math to Ec to Spanish before choosing his major. His periodically replenished cabinet of Cuban liquor was as envied as his loud hi-fi radio was feared. His personality is natural, cooperative, and in the most pleasant sense, friendly. As with the Sefior, his simplicity of behavior conceals an inquiring and cosmopolitan intellect. But Jim has faults not so typical of stu- dents; he is disgustingly neat, and although he has been all over Europe and then some, it took him seventy-two hours to reach Havana from here. Be- sides all this, he has that perplexing quality of not trying to communicate his feelings unless he knows you are interested. Guy Sotomayor is the enamoured fiance of a beautiful girl at Mary Washington, a winner of a shiny Austen Heeley, and heir to an export empire. And since he is God ' s chosen, he lives serenely. Serenely implies a violent refusal to play Bridge, bouncing Jim Viney out of bed at ten in the morning, and bulling constantly with Ian Adams. Guy ' s is an attitude of candor, practicality, and when necessary, industry. Besides, he loves machin- ery, guns, and early morning hunting excursions which are more discussed than successful. But it ' s our guess that she ' ll soon teach him Bridge. But Norm Kalen is already married and a pros- pective father. Though far from native Venezuela, life in his Penn Wynne apartment agrees with him. Avoiding study is so easy and wild life at parties is so much more wild. Besides, he gets to drive the Thunderbird four times a day. Yet the old Spanish House haunt has its attraction, so Norm and Glenna show up there often enough to keep his sophisti- cated air seemingly collegiate. Thirty-nine French In many ways Haverford can justly claim that in this best of all possible worlds, we have the best of all possible French departments. Formed exactly like the French government itself, that is, a close knit union of wildly disintegrated parts, the depart ' ment goes its merry way, utterly oblivious of the fact that it simply cannot go on in this manner if it wishes to survive. This phenomenon can be ex ' plained by the existence of two great stabilizing elements within the coalition, both of whom realize that their existence depends on a toleration of the other ' s point of view. Larry Wylie claims to have found the consistency in the inconsistency of French life; substituting a friendly manner and one-syllable French words for the weird excesses of sociological jargon, he actually makes sense out of the divisive unity of French society. Marcel Gutwirth sticks to a more literary side of the French character, and can always confront his students with enough devi- ations from the norm to upset all the patterns. If it be true that Gutwirth provides the elan vital for the Humanities courses, his French Lit. program is a session in Inhumanities, punctuated by his Satanic giggle and attaques a fond on just about everyone. Until the next election, the splinter parties in this governmental body consists of the silver-throated phonetic man, Henry Hornik (who insists that, these days, one needs a degree in Electrical Engineering to teach his subject) and Michael Shaw, who br ings a wealth of scholarship and the third Beautiful Wife to the department. The horror of the best of all possible worlds de- lighted Jim Schuster. A timid knock, a surly epithet, usually announced the presence of the college ' s most accomplished cynic. J.R. devoted his early years to French and Sociology, applying the latter in his vituperative harangues against the social position of his benefactors. A year in France effected a mitiga- tion of this outlook and a marked improvement of his accent. On his return, he assumed command of the French House Squadron, frequented Bryn Mawr for socio-psychological pursuits, received unheard of praises from M. Gutwirth, and continued to aver that his back was to the wall. This pet argument lost its force, however, for he too discovered that it was all in the mind. George Malko spent his junior year studying abroad, living in Paris. This was all part of a deliberate plan to become a degenerate artist, but he couldn ' t quite make the grade, the shining good- ness of a Chicago Gold Coast upbringing carrying the day. He began his freshman year with the high- est tirade ever given in a Bryn Mawr course which so unnerved him that he resolved never again to fall into the trap of middle-class respectability, and the next years, climaxing at the Sorbonne, were a living tribute to that pledge. A frustrated writer, he contents himself with the knowledge that there has never been an tui frustrated writer. The horror of the best of all possible worlds inspired George. The Classical World WIki is Win? A jolly friar, prone to ' talk, bustles down .1 college walk, lost in thoughtful reveries of Biblical antiquities. He cheers up all who meet hi- sway, yet writes a sermon every day; has birthdays of a temperate sort; and makes sallies on the atheists ' fort. His red devil suit is just .1 guise. His puns delight with sheer surprise. He has many duties as secretary, but refrains from being mercenary. A lesser mind would snap, he said, reclining on a mussed-up bed. But it never did — it ' s just as well. Let ' s hope he saves us all from Hell! Win ' s academic mainstay was John Flight, the gentleman beloved by some for his astute scholar ' ship and others for his liberal grades. His putter- ing around with broken pots and shreds of parch- ment may have made little impression of the Phil- istines, but it thrilled those who found study a pleasure. Fluency with classical and modern languages, and even archeology itself were only tools. The real studium is the society and thought of the Biblical world. No personality could be more equipped for exploring that world than this kindly, polite, and diligent teacher. The Greek and Latin Departments consisted of L. Arnold Post and Howard Comfort, who of gentlemen are the most scholarly, of scholars are the most gentile. Even the most callow dilettante in Greek Literature in Translation was thrilled by the breadth, wisdom, and wit of Post ' s lectures. Though Greek students trembled in fear of his trenchant corrections, though they hated the dawn classes and loathed Greek conjugations, and though they occa- sionally flunked, they always revered the only prof who expected to aid them to learn rather than feed them knowledge. Less idealistic about how students work outside of class, Howard Comfort checked more carefully on who had done assignments. Besides elucidating the grammar of his literary love, Catallus, and the ob- scurity of Plautine puns, besides an anglophile ' s ver- sion of baseball, besides helpfully counselling his motley group of majors, and besides official capacities with a half dozen learned societies, he studied assiduously his archeological loves: pots and coins. But these duties so pressed him that he took off a semester to finish up his current book. So Arthur Brain was imported from Ottawa. With an equal passion for cricket, pedagogy, and tasteful friendli- ness, he was the perfect substitute. Forty-one English The English department with eight members far outstrips its brother departments on campus in re- spect to size. To understand the attraction respon- sible for drawing a disproportionately large number of students into the study of English literature, it is necessary, we feel, to search for significant clues among the instructors themselves. With this intro- duction, then, we beg leave to bring to the eye of the reader the following apologia pro sua existentia. The dialogue here presented may seem brief as compared with the list of its participants, but for the purpose of posterity — as well as for the purpose of sincerity — the latter must take precedence. THE CHORUS (who, in the imagination, must hum a six-voiced fugue throughout) No one was more serious, sincere, or searching than Al Scott, whose religious bent lead him to join up with some mystics in freshman year. Over the course of a collegiate experience most of them came to prefer moderation in virtue as well as vice. But. Al was too devoted to philosophy (the man- servant of theology) to ever let his football team ' mates, the Barclay inmates, or the Bryn Mawr mates ever lead him astray. In senior year, he switched from phil to English, perhaps in recognition of the importance of aesthetics (the seductress of philosophy) . Norm Grossblatt went from Barclay to Lloyd, and finally to Leeds. He found the increasing quiet of each change much to his liking. In an attempt to be an active part of college life, he was Copy Editor of the Hews, and Editor of the 1955- ' 56 Handbook. Although he considered the K[ews to be a failing institution, and the Handbook to be slow in paying wages, he nevertheless, refused to be daunted, and decided to continue in the field of journalism after college. He found the quality of food and companionship to be far better at Bryn Mawr than here, but, realiz- ing that he couldn ' t graduate there, went through with it at Haverford with as stiff an upper lip as possible. Quiet and reserved in true M.iin Line Style, but with a ready smile and an agreeable reply, Court- land White won new friends rapidly — especially with the weaker sex of our environs, who couldn ' t resist that casual sophistication. With a fair degree of scholastic impatience, he finished off his credits in January, so that he could pursue, uninterrupted, the activities, and employ the comforts, of off cam- pus living which he had enjoyed as a commuter. Courtland pursued his academic bent for English and Economics with no less application, if more casualness. He was, in short, the mainstay of the Main Line influence; the unwitting paragon of nice living. Forty-two Every day, in every way, since Mike Stephens graced the Haverford College Campus, new highs in the intellectual aristocracy were reached. Gone and forgotten were the days of Arnold Post ' s glory. Mike is known by all and loved by many in our well-knit community, and will not soon fade from our memories. He is most famous for being the only student to turn down BK in his junior year. After we leave we will recall him not only as a leader, but as an educated man. Having given WHRC a fair spell of announcing, engineering, and electronic repair work; having con- sumed with impunity more beer at parties than many a ' Ford can boast; and having investigated Bell Telephone ' s method of detecting theft. Bill Momsen is the natural candidate for Most Active Senior. Having started MacCaffrey ' s 20 page papers 24 hours before they were due; having experienced Lunt ' s jitter-sessions, having consistently ignored his Ashmead assignments. Bill is the obvious choice for Most Luc v Senior. Having always a cheerful dis- position, having always a ready joke, having never the typical poetic scowl, he is the inevitable winner of Most Unaffected. Wild man Ted Kummer, who earned his title of ferocity with his habit of breaking furniture with gusto, early proved that he was not a scientific grind by the way he repeated elementary chemistry and squeezed through elementary physics, the second time. The alternative of a scientific bent is a human- istic one, which he proved later by such ambitious papers as A Comparison of Modern and Greek Drama, and The Blood and Guts of the Vita! Hemmingway. His particular talents are not to be wasted: the plans are early marriage (realizing that self support is inconceivable). In his little world, Ted is either leading a squadron of sabre jets or pulling at stumps with Shane . . . pocketa-pocketa. Dramatis Personnae Chairman of the English department. Ralph Sar- gent, stands as the acknowledged expert on Shake- speare at Haverford. His bouncing joviality coupled with an air of nervous reserve instill into his courses a distinct if indefinable flavor. While he is perforce limited, in his sophomore-level Shakespeare 23 course, to wide coverage rather than depth of ap- proach, he rewards the faithful who persist on to higher levels with a real enlightenment and elabora ' tion of their earlier exxpenenee. Fran Quinn has a remarkable gift not only for drawing a student ' s capacity for critical appreciation from any number of submerged recesses of the mind, but for inspiring a zest for work as well. Gerhard Friedrich ' s fascinatingly precise articula ' tion frequently inspired a sense of awe in the more impressionable of his students. Appropriately, his method of teaching is so thorough, that some idea of American literature is unavoidable by the termina- tion of his course. He is a former protege of K[ed (Edward) Snyder, who, while in semi-retirement this year, continues to guide hungry souls through the lushness of nineteenth century poetry. Robert Durimg had become fabled for his assign- ments, which are reputedly measured by the pound rather than the page. His 41-42 class can always claim to be knowledgeable, if tired. With Max Bluestone, a Harvard graduate possessing a love for the well-turned phrase and a bent toward the eighteenth century rationalists, he constitutes the youthful (not yet forty) element of the department. Kenneth Woodroofe is an almost-always bubbling fountain of mirth and bonhomie. Like his compatriot, Frank Quinn, he came from Oxford several years ago and found Haverford too agreeable to leave. The English department ' s heir apparent, John Lester, provides in his energetically-conducted nine- teenth century prose course a pleasant opportunity for becoming acquainted with the works of Scott, Dickens, Thackeray, et al (of the books I want to read, but wouldn ' t on my own time variety). Somewhat reminiscent of a Ronald Searle cartoon character in appearance, he has the additional re- sponsibility of keeping the library staff and workings in tow. (An afternoon in mid-October. The scene is Ralph Sargent ' s large office in Whithall. A meeting of the English department, called to discuss the ad- visabality of introducing a second semester course in metrics, is nearing a close. With nothing decided, the eight members of the department, seated at a long black table, make sporadic remarks on the subject of assignments in general. The two hissing radiators indicate the mood as well as the over- heated condition of the room.) 1 Sargent: (obviously tired, but still determined) : Well, ha, ha, ha, it ' s nearly five; suppose we, uh, get back to this business of metrics. After all . . . Quinn: (turning from Woodroofe, unaware of Sar- gent ' s remark) : Ralph, I was just telling Ken here about what I ' m doing in my seventeenth century course. Sargent: (torn between knitted brows and self- conscious chuckle) Oh? Well, perhaps . . . Quinn: I ' m havin ' th ' lahds have a loook at Paradise Lost for next week wi ' th ' usual weekly paper. (As Quinn talks, Durling, seated beside him, ex- tracts, unseen, a cigarette from the latter ' s pack of Marlboros lying on the table) It ' s a bit of a grind, but that way, they ' ve got somethin ' they can keep. Bluestone: (Under his breath) Yeah, and they can just eep those papers too. Won ' t catch me . . . ' Woodroofe: (Who has been giggling unaccountably for the past ten minutes) What ' s that you were saying Max? Bluestone: (Immediately in possession of himself; in ponderous tones) Nothing, nothing, but I confess I don ' t see too much value in this idea of thou- sand-word papers every week. Now, really to grasp the organic whole of a work, I think that closer, more intense study is called for. Why, not long ago I had my eighteenth century class memo- rize the first half of the Dunciad backwards. Very rewarding, it was too. Forty-four Sai ent (Sits with elbow- on the table, eyes closed, thumb and forefinger of one hand held the bridge oi his nose. It is apparent that he is vanquished and battles now only against the hypnotic effect of the radiator ' - hissing) But . . . don ' t you think . . . Lester- (Having secretly been smiling to himsell sees opportunity here to be rid of his favoril opinion-) Can ' t say I agree with you. Max. As I was saying to my men only last week, the best way to read Dickens and Thackeray is in an easy chair before an open fire with (small guffaw) a little something in a glass beside you. (Waits for a reaction; is disappointed; decides class under- stood humor involved, they didn ' t). Snyder: (Gazing at radiator aero-- the room) I met a traveler from an antique land Who said: Durling: (Drawing another cigarette from the pads of Marlboros, his action observed this time by Quinn) One of my 41-42 class students come to me about a topic for a term paper. Do you know what I did? I persuaded him to write on Donne and a Spanish poet, and compare the two. (As though as an afterthought) Said I ' d pick up Spanish by the time he finished the paper. (Almost everyone looks impri i Friedrich: (Hands carefully folded before him) Papers may indeed have their good features. But I am -ure. Ralph, that you will agree with me when I say . . . Sargent: (With i start) Wha . . . oh. ye-, umm, good point. Gerhard. Go on (Replaces thumb and forefinger on bridge of nose, giving appearance of intense concentration). Friedrich: (Continuing without having noticed the interruption) . . . th.it assignments could be thought out with a greater degree of care. Nor can I praise too highly the use of the detailed and complete syllabus, down to edition of book, page numbers, and library catalogue number. The syllabus . . . (continues in this vein with Sargent interjecting good point from time to time. When Friedrich has finished speaking, several professors look at their watches — expressing no surprise at what they see — and rise to leave on the assumption that nothing more could be said.) Sargent: (Head nearly on a level with the table) Louise, is breakfast ready yet? Louise . . . Forty-five Collection Four years, two presidents, ,inj sundry other in- fluences, have had no effect on the unvaried boredom of Collection. Still every Tuesday morning at eleven we went to Roberts ' Hall, all of us, very unwilling. We were allowed two cuts, only two precious, lux ' urious cuts. Those who had wangled their way out of Tuesday-Thursday classes, came marked with the pleasures of Morpheus. Those who had not, came branded by the torture of wooing Athena. When we toddled noisily in, hearing the chorus of four hundred voices chanting an Ode to Triviality, we realized acutely that the whole school is there, in the same capacity: audience to a would-be, pre- judged, demagogue. For this hour, quite uncon- sciously for the most part, we act as a group, the student body, with no marginal differentiation , no non-conformity. As we enter the organ is being played, usually by Rupe, Carl Robert Ruppenthal. In Collection he is anonymous. Only there. Outside he is thought of as the staid young organmaster from Central High whose well ordered life it took four years, one A rab, and sundry other influences to appreciably effect. But there have been appreciable effects. Rupe. formerly an ardent member of the 7:30 Breakfast Club, now slumbers peacefully until 9 or 10 o ' clock with no apparent ill effects; moreover he may, oc- casionally, be persuaded that to eat dinner at 5:33 is not intrinsically evil. Rupe was customarily annoyed and embarrassed at the childish pranks of certain mis- begotten friends, but has been observed to show some semblance of a smile, problably denoting bene- volent condonation, yet conceivably revealing some positive amusement, at a particularly well executed ploy. He has recently been caught standing at basket- ball games. And in his senior year — we have several eye witnesses — Rupe had a date. A little after Rupe ' s organ drones have died away, as if by some magical cue the room fall silent. Only then does the President approach the rostrum and stand there quietly devising the witty remark that begins the hour. It is now 11:17. There are several important announcements. We are very disappointed if we can ' t laugh at, or with, the announcers. Mr. Woodruff may skip and bounce jovially up to stage. A student may trudge up with feigned stage fright, deliver his double entendre, and retreat with feigned embarrassment. A professor may blandly assume an interest in weekend work camps which does not exist. This is the recitative on Trivality. It is 11:30. The speaker, who has written too many books to be listed here. begins the aria. Afterwards we disperse, murmuring that at least he was interesting. Forn The Philips Visitors Program Charles Darwin Biologist Edic Fromm Psychologist Haverford, as anyone who has come within ten miles of the place knows, has a Philips Visitors Pro gram whereby statesmen and scientist-; of out- standing merit come to lecture profoundly and live luxuriously. It provides a chance for avid students to hull with the best of them and to enjoy, without expense, relief from the insipid dining room fare. Rut it requires besides the faculty host a student host; some senior who is well in- formed in current events, perceptive, aware, and efficient. John Armstrong filled the bill marvel- ously. Pepe Ambitione, as Professor Pierre chanced so conveniently to call him, religiously has been getting up .it 6:30 A.M. and going to bed at 11 :30 P.M.. thereby getting my seven hours sleep. To be sure the all-American boy has maintained his rigorous schedule through thick and thin women, liquor, and the Academy of Music. After a wasted freshman year (he paid more attention to K ' s than to his A.B.C. ' s) our boy hero came through and successfully put his nose to the grindstone (when it wasn ' t in a book or in the brown), and after three fruitful years gleefully contemplates arguing for his cause and for other broad endeavors in many a strange land. Philips Visitors, 1955-1956 FRED KARUSH, Associate Professor of Biochen istry, Childrens ' Hospital. SEYMOUR S. COHEN, Professor of Biochemistry, Children ' s Hospital. KEITH R. PORTER, Member, Rockefeller Insti- tute. GEORGE PALLADE, Associate Member, Rocke- I feller Institute. MONTROSE MOSES. Research Associate, Rocke feller Institute. Biologi. WARNER E. LOVE, Lenkenou Institute for Can- cer Research. COLLIN PITTENDRICH. Associate Professor of Biology, Princeton University. GEORGE WALD, Professor of Biology, Harvard University. MILTON KATZ, Professor of Law, Harvard Uni- versity. JAMES McCORMACK, Special Assistant to the President, Massachusetts Institute of Technology. DENIS HEALEY, Member of Parliament, former International Secretary, British Labor Party. RAYMOND VERNON, Economist, former Acting Director, Office of Economic Defense and Trade Policy, Department of State. LINCOLN GORDON, School of Business Admin- istration, Harvard University. A. I. HALLOWELL, Professor of Anthropology, University of Pennsylvania. LOREN C. EISELEY, Professor of Sociology, Uni- versity of Pennsylvania. LAURISTON SHARP, Professor of Anthropology, Cornell University. CLYDE KLUCKHOLM, Professor of Anthropol- ogy, Harvard University. ROBERT REDFIELD, Professor of Sociology, Uni- versity of Chicago. PAUL F. LAZARSFELD, Professor of Sociology, Columbia University. MARCEL SHEIN, Professor of Physics, University of Chicago. CHARLES DARWIN, Director, National Physi- cal Laboratory, England. J. ROBERT OPPENHEIMER, Director, Institute of Advanced Study, Princeton. ERIC FROMM, Professor Extraordinary, Univer- sity of Mexico. OTTO KLINEBERG, Professor of Psychology, Columbia University. RALPH H. FOX, Professor of Mathematics. Prince- ton University. DEANE MONTGOMERY, Member, Institute for Advanced Study, Princeton. JAMES J. STOKER, Professor of Mathematics, New York University. Forty -eight Meeting Ernie ( the old man ) Kurkjian is .1 professional Quaker who has had .1 varied career. He ' s been on the professional stage as .1 singer, an actor, a pianist in classics and jazz, and a speaker. During World War II he spent some tune in prison for refusing to kill people. He worked to plaee Japanese- American students into colleges and nursing schools from their wartime concentration-camp homes. He then worked tor the American Friends ' Service Committee, but decided to come to Haverford to begin a career as .1 teacher. He could only do this because his beautiful wife. Amy, became the bread winner. What a lucky guy! Ernie is found at his campus address, the Coop, with a cup of coffee, and listening to Ed Minnich. He ' s a sociology major and has been able to conv bine, thereby, two interests, sex and criminology, in his senior paper on sex offenders. He has a lot of stories to tell. Ernie spoke only once in Fifth Day Meeting — against the compulsory aspect of his being there. This was his view : The ideal Meeting for Worship is an experience of the spirit of God and an understanding of the spirit of man. That ideal is difficult to attain in any worship service, and it is more demanding of us when the form of worship is the unprogrammed Friends ' Meeting. An even greater obstacle to wor- ship, however, is compulsory attendance. Haverford College has encouraged responsible freedom of thought and expression as well as eon siderable student self government. Yet students are not considered responsible enough to be allowed free choice of attendance at Meeting for Worship. The Society of Friends has a history of long-suffer- ing to establish freedom of worship. In the early days of its history even children suffered with then- parents for this goal. But at Haverford, the Society is in the peculiar position of violating the spirit of freedom of worship by enforced attendance at Meet ' ing. It is this fact, more than any other, which affects the quality of worship at Fifth Day Meeting for Forty-nine Worship. It strikes at the very heart ot tin prin ciples of Quaker Meeting. There are those who feel that Fifth Day Meeting for Worship will die at Haverford if the compulsion is rescinded. Experience in other schools ha- yen erally borne out that view. Can it then be said that Haverford is afraid that there is really no religious impulse here which is not based on compulsion. ' Others do not agree. We have had strong indications that the quality of Fifth Day Meeting for Worship would actually improve without compulsory attend- ance. Complaints and gripes come both fr om the stu- dents and from the College. But there has been little creative effort toward solution of the fundamental problem. Without a consideration of compulsory attendance no effort at improvement can succeed. Will we forget? Will we look back with a nos- talgia and gloss over the fact that we had to be at Fifth Day Meeting for Worship Or will we con- tinue to gripe, without deeper thought and thorough study. Indubitably we will. The Cohort at Bryn Mawr College :k ill f .: Most of us were hardly conscious of her beautiful grounds, always in perfect order. Still less were we aware of the undersized inefficient classrooms in her pseudo-Gothic buildings. For a Haverfordian, any Haverfordian, Bryn Mawr was the synonym for available, if not always affable girls. With our sister school, our official ties consisted of drama and radio co-presentations, a few shared classes and professors, and a mixer dance for freshmen. But all three of 5 these kinds of activity were divertingly and thor- 9 oughly immersed in a spirit of co-ed existence. What- I ever the general concept of the typical Bryn Mawr I giri, Haverfordians felt, to an extent unreciprocated I at least by the girls in Pern, that Bryn Mawr girls I were properly Haverford ' s girls. The reasons for this were extensive. Bryn Mawr I was only a mile away. It once was Quaker too. In I politics, in patterns of social behavior, in social con- I tact, in pedagogy, the faculties were interchangably I similar. In overall program, in professed purpose, B in their definition of the liberal education, even in I the specifics of organization, the administrations a seemed twinned. The Bryn Mawr student, as easily stereotyped sociologically as the Haverfordian, dif- fered from him only in her femininity. It is thus inevitable that we should have been so close to Bryn Mawrtyrs, and they almost as close to us. Besides the dates which were admittedly only for the average Haverfordian had many Bryn Mawr dates in which the couple would study to- gether, with dubious success, preparing for classes unshared. Some students, even in the face of con- sistently lower grades dispensed over there, took an occasional Bryn Mawr course. A lot fewer. I lucky enough to have the one occupational intention which would necessitate it, majored at Bryn Mawr. Geology was that one and only subject which al- lowed one to spend less classroom time at Haverford than at Bryn Mawr. In the Class of ' 56 only three of us went so far as to become geologists. Harv Freeman, who when not hefting a pick near Wissa- Fifty hickon mica shist ensconced himself in the seclusion of Scull House, could best, perhaps, be described as friendly, sober, and thoughtful. With a train of beautiful Bryn Mawr dates, a skill uncanny in all thins:- moch.iiiic.il. and a wit that, when elicited, countered any inanity with a thought, he need only have written poetry on the side to have been first candidate tor all-around-man ' of-the-year. It was hinted that he copped his somewhat debonair manner with his beloved pipe from Geology Prof. Watson. But we don ' t believe so. It ' s too successful. Joe Hoag, who also spent every Tuesday in the Pennsylvania hills, knew well how to be delightfully goofy or necessarily restrained. Having supplied a lot of wind for the orchestra as a freshman and sophomore, in Ins junior and senior years he did the same for the Class Night shows. That wind and the stamina that supports it were also quite handy on the J.V. soccer field for three years. Both a 56 ingenuity and a Leeds Hall familiarity marked Joe as a Haverford individual. Bill Hitzrot in his senior year roomed with John Hawkins and therefore regularly had a (certain) Bryn Mawr (study) date. Though maybe outshined by the great white father of histrionics, his room ' mate, Bill lent his handsome profile to many a Drama Club and Class Night stage. But however incon ' sistent it may seem with a theatrical bent, Bill was content to play straight man for Yenfant terrible and cherecher la Bryn Mawr femme. Thus in spite of her maidenly reserve and horologi- cal chaperones, the Bryn Mawrtyr was mawrtyr to the pursuits of interested Haverfordians. Fiftyone ■■ ' ' 1 The Varsity Club Trading on a combination of athletic gusto and business acumen, the Varsity Club supplied the college with the usual dance, picnic, and assorted entertainments. The financial talent was typified in the Secretary-Treasurer, Stark Semans. For four years, under Founders ' bell, Stark studied the Dismal Science, including the machinations of Wall Street. the treacheries of Big Labor, and the atrocities of Big Business (which seemed to be the regulator of Democratic Government). Meanwhile. Ho Hunter confused him with the uneasy case for progressive taxation to finance all three. Finally. Fellow Bennett flew in from New Zealand to subject this incon- sistency to the rigors of formal logic. A frustrated chopper of golf balls, which explains his entry into a circle of lady-killers. Stark was for- ever getting Coach Docherty and the team lost by driving to golf courses with incorrect roadmaps. An appetite for Dan ' s hamburgers and for con- versation of all sorts, drove him to the Coop for daily respite from economic cares. An injury on the gridiron retired John Thomas, a paragon of athletic gusto, into partial retirement. Insight by impressions — Let it ring twice. — ■ About this phone bill, fellows, — Hope Barbara can sew, John — How about a quarter for soap, tell, iws? — Hide John, here comes Stark — Prexy of THE CLUB — Waterfights his delight — can ' t sleep mornings (after 11:59) — casual John — Tommy to the coaches — dropped a pass once! — Ripped your pants on TV. John? — Dreamboat for four year in a row — Has a den at Denbigh — The Ringoes kid — Goes to 10th entry for cheese- burgers, brings his roommates home — Cheerful re- sponse to 3 A.M. hello ' s — Oh. what a man! Less obvious than the fun it arranged for big weekends was the responsible direction the club provided for Haverford athletics. As the under- graduate arm of the Gym Dept.. it encouraged enthusiasm for both intramural and outside games; recognized the proper subordination of physical to intellectu.il exercise; but adequately defended FUN when it was reviled by intellectuals who never experienced it. Fifty two Fencing The L956 season tor the Haverford Fencing tc.ini was not a very successful one due to the loss of several stars last year. But the troubles of the tour-year turnover which plagues .ill teams will not he as important for next year ' s fencing. Coach Gordon ' s consolation is that next winter he will have to do without only the ' 56 captain, Dick Johnson and. in the sabre division, Trev Leger. On the other hand, returning are Warren Heeht on sabres, and Charlie Knight and Elliot Heiman on the foils. Heeht is captain elect.. Leighton Price, Don Stover, Jay Goodman, Peter Rockwell and Lanny Montgomery all won numerals this year. Phil Fore- man was manager. ©fl ©, f jp li,e r w o Fifty-three Wrestling Compiling the second best record in the school ' s wrestling history, the 1955-56 squad stands as the Cinderella team in a great year for Haverford athletics. Refusing to acquiesce either to the standard of mediocrity or the level of alibi, Coach Doc Harter combined technical know-how with that intangible quality of leadership which drives an athlete to transcend natural ability. Thus, he pro- duced .1 winner. The team was led by co-captains Tom Martenis and Lou Miller. Variously known as Pebble, Marty, Council bouncer. Lover boy, and the Fords ' Babe Ruth, Turn had earned each of these appellations by some facet of his many-sided character. Though he was known to quote Football is the greatest! , actually, fun of any kind was the greatest, as we remember from quotes such as Learned a new position today, or He ' s just sleeping, Mrs. D ' Arngo, and How much under are you Hollie? Since he was a real grind, his most courageous deed was rooming with Reeg for two years. This sub- jected him to such queries as Tom, are you in a baddy? It was by this uncomplicated and un- excelled capacity to enjoy friends, that he provided the core of team spirit which was so effective in leading the wrestling team to its victorious season. Somewhat different was Lou. By quotes beginning with such statements as Now my attitude toward sex is . . . Lou Miller earned the reputation of hedonist philosopher. Hedonism included, besides the plethera of Bryn Mawr dates, Saturday night beer brawls with Woz in Menon or with Hal and BUI in Lloyd. It also allowed for a curious mind ' s love of extenuated bull sessions on every ethical and metaphysical question conceivable. His value to the team was that he carried to every prac- tice and match the vigorous, the brutal enthusiasm which he applied to everything he did. With these co-captains, the Ford grapplers in- augurated the recent campaign against the Univer- sity of Delaware. After spotting the Blue Hen ' s team 1 1 points in the first three bouts, the Fords pro- ceeded to take the next five, three of them by falls. Hollis Price, Windsor Baker, and Tom Martenis pinned their men to win 19 to 11. After the Christmas recess, the Ford team enter- tained Lafayette College, the newly crowned Middle- Atlantic wrestling champions, at Haverford. Lafay- Fifty-four ette wrestled like true champions; the Fords could win only two of eight bouts for .1 score of 10 to 24. The next match saw the Fords upset powerful Ursinus. Again the Scarlet and Black won via pins as each team won tour bouts, but garnered lour falls, while Ursinus had only one. Fm.il: Haverford 20, Ursinus 14. Following .mother recess, due to exams, the itin erate Ford grapplers traveled to Lewi-ton and took on Bucknell University. Haverford started off five points down to a forfeit at 130. Lesser pinned his man and Ted Regan swapped top and bottom with In- opponent several times before he finally pinned him in 8:35 Co-captain Lou Miller went on to gain a t ' all at 147. Haverford lost the next two bouts by decision, but Tom Martenis pinned tor the fourth consecutive time to clinch the match. Final: Haverford 20, Bucknell 16. At Muhlenberg, Don Cohill came through with the decisive bout in the H7-pound class as he pinned his man at 8:45. Goggin was back at 130 and earned a quiek fall. Tom Martenis lost his first bout in this match when Paul Billy, who was also undefeated, beat him. Final: Haverford 18, Muhlenberg 14. The Fords were at home for the final three matches against Drexel, P.M.C., and Swarthmore. Drexel was a very weak team and the Scarlet and Black grapplers won handily. Price. Lesser, Goggin, Mertenis. and Baker pinned in their bouts. Final: Haverford 28. Drexel 10. Against P.M.C.. the Fords continued in grand fashion as they racked up five more tails. Martenis continued his amazing string, as did Harry Lesser. Final: Haverford 27, P.M.C. in. The Swarthmore match fittingly proved to be the most exciting of the victorious campaign. Harry- Leeser was held to a draw by Steve Rubin. Although Swarthmore ' s John Hawley pinned rugged Greg Goggin, and Ted Regan lost a close one to Jim Heald. five to four, co-captain Lou Miller led the way to a comeback by pinning Vie Ludwig. Holly Priee then handily defeated scrappy Dick Prewitt and thus brought the SC e to Swarthmore 13, Haverford 10, with two bouts remaining. Tom Martenis climaxed a successful career by gaining his seventh pin in the fast time of 1 :23. Victory wa- in the balance as Windsor Baker and the Garnet ' s Oakley met in the final bout. Wrestling in magnifi- cent and crowd-pleasing fashion Baker came from behind to defeat the game Oakley and clinch the victory. Final: Haverford IS, Swarthmore 13. The Ford ' s undefeated PVs were led by Hal Kurzman and Andy Green, who were both inspira- tional and instrumental in leading the team to success. At Muhlbury, the scene of the Middle-Atlantic Championships, Co-captain Lou Miller and fresh- man Harry Leeser sparkled by gaining second place medals. Much of the responsibility for the winning record of the team can be placed with the senior members of the squad, co-captains Martenis and Miller, Windsor Baker, Don Cohill, Bill Ortman, and Ted Regan. Basketball Once, a few of the student body used to trudge into the gym at halftime for an occasional glance at its court representatives and march right out after a dreaded glance at the timeworn scoreboard which announced a coming hurricane. There were always a few faithful spectators, hut so few that their shiies and sucks could he identified by any member of the second string, for sometimes the array of colors draped over the upstairs track was more interesting than the floor play. This year, however, the tenor of athletic activity swung into a different key and the gym (referred to as the sieve by Dick Morsch) began to take on a new lustre. The pleasant shock of cheering the football squad to a Swarthmore win and its first successful campaign in many a year seemed to revive the old ' college-spirit and gave ole Founders ' Bell a piercing resonance long since unheard. There was nothing else for the basketball squad to do but pick up where its fall predecessors left off. This it did in Fifty six an admirable fashion, presenting directors Randall and Docherty with .1 proud l ' 1 - ' 7 record. Captained by Phil D ' Arrigo and well coached by Hill Prizer .md Ernie Prudente, the Haverford court- men took the floor on December 3 with an air of composure and determination. They had a sense of team unity which lasted to the last buzzer of the Swarthmore game. The presence of this fad c could readily be discerned by the calibre of team play noticeable at every game. Scarcely a period went by that a dazzling rally of sharp passes did not stir up the spectators, and cine could sometimes hear Jerry Gunster break into a series of exeited staeeato phrases entertaining his WHRC audience to the extent that many a game found the gym towards the last quarter packed with Wednesday and Satur- day night hoi ikwi this. But the passes and team play were only half the story. The other half was in the form of a J ' 10 guard whose slippery jersey 3 squeezed in and out of conscientious defenders from the start of play to the last second of each game. Phil D ' Arrigo was his name, and no one has more admiration for him than the members of the team who could see how much he gave to every game. He followed in a line of respected court captains and set the fine example for a hustling squad. Among his outstand- ing personal achievements arc his 1300 point accumulation over the past four years, with 472 points scored in this season on the hardwood. Phil averaged 22.0 points per game for his four-year stay at Haverford, and led the Philadelphia area during his first campaign with 27.8 points per game (tenth in the nation amongst small college scorers). His performance against P.M.C. on our home place will be remembered for a good many years, and the record established during that game. 2 points, will probably hold until Haverford starts playing pro ball. Off the court, Phil was earnest, quiet, and friendly. He either studied or goofed; he seldom combined the two. He ' s still chuckling over Martenis ' quote, He ' s just sleeping. Mrs. D ' Arrigo. The loss of D ' Arrigo to next year ' s squad will be coupled with the graduation of Al Irvine, whose ability to stand up as a leader under pressure and to provide the clutch play in the most needy time proved him invaluable to the team morale. Al accounted for 13? points and garnered 117 re- bounds (one-third of the teams total for the season). Fifty-seven 13 | ; 2 P i ' 3 K I 10 [ ; 14 ; 12 Lest we forget the merits of the rest of the team, it should not be overlooked that the foursome of Hudson, Allen, Walton, and Weigert, is a smoothly operating unit and will return next year to form the nucleus of the squad. Gene Hudson was the team ' s second highest scorer with 222 points giving him a 13.1 average per game. He is strong off the boards and his responsibility as co-captain of next year ' s squad will no doubt lend to his all-around drive and hustle. Harry Allen, the second elected co-captain, h.is always been marked out for his potential and he gave the Ford fans a preview of what is to come by performing creditably in the Swarthmore game. Howie Walton was the team ' s best foul shooter and for a while got into the habit of scoring the team ' s first basket of every game, by means of a famous set shot, probably the best in the league. His 158 points for the season are not even indicative, since he was widely acclaimed for his thread and needle passes. The last of the foursome is Marty Weigert, who surprised every- one by proving Coach Prizer ' s original statement that he would someday be a very valuable ball- player. Marty used his 6 ' 4 frame under the boards to great advantage; he nabbed 149 rebounds and dunked 51% of his shots, the highest percentage on the squad. In addition to these men, John Craw ford and Pete Eidenberg will round out the first six and can be counted on for their extensive drive and fight. This year ' s team beat every quintet in the league at least once, except for Drexel, but disappointingly finished fourth in the league standing. Their win over Moravian was a banner victory and a very high quality of play was evident throughout the fray. A factor of tremendous importance in assessing the team ' s record is that the last five of their eight away games, with the possible exceptions of Drexel and Swarthmore, showed a decided let-down in the second half of every loser. School spirit means something. Fifty-eight The Library The only recourse when roommates refused to sympathize with your coming test was the library. Though the Gummere-Morley room was usually presided over by a group of wits who, by agreement, devoted twelve of every sixty minutes to a display of their talents, and although the rest of the library maintained a rather tenuous silence at best, students who had a strong enough character to accept the necessity of study, flocked there. Joe Zamba-Reeves had evidently developed a great deal of strength of character before arriving among us; for he managed to survive without bowing to that cardinal expression of conformity at Haverford: the pretense of loving every other participant in our closeknit community. The athletes called him sullen, the intellectuals more euphemistically pronounced, quiet. The psych majors hinted inferiority com ' plex, and only the perspicacious realized that he was idealistic enough to hate the sham that makes so many feel so righteous. But, with a calm and reserve which a few of us greatly envied, Joe settled down to annual duels with the dean and free-for-alls in exam periods. Of course, it ' s likely that this self ' sufficiency so incomprehensible to some was par- tially the result of his rejection of the length and breadth of Western philosophy (which he constantly referred to with a word which, coincidentally, has four letters). It is impossible to imagine a person- ality more adequate for being the second doctor in one ' s homeland. Fifty-nine 1 ' La Condition Humaine As dawn breaks, a solitary figure clutching a moneybag with the entire assets of Innes Industries clicks noisily off to the dining hall, a trek he has made every morning in the past four years. Sud- denly, Little Jimmy Winsor Baker, dressed in tails, tuxes, and more tails, meets this lone figure and chortles merrily over the day he tore the goal posts down. Innes, after completing his dining room chores and his duties of fatherhood to numerous chickens, returns to the dorm with breakfast for his room- mates who deign to get up for their orange juice substitute and doughnuts. A shot is heard and the great white hunter, John Funston Marquardt, ap- pears with can and doughnut in hand. The others appear at various times until even Fettus finally makes it up for lunch. Classes or sack time make the afternoon inconse- quential — with the exception of athletics. A bird ' s eye view of the campus reveals Marquardt with water on the knee beating Swinton in tennis, Irvine and Innes bossing the cricket team, and Winsor get- ting ready for sailing practice, a far cry from his and Fettus ' grappling efforts of the winter. Schwentker, meanwhile, is having a difficult time getting from one end of the room to the other because of in- numerable diversions. Life really begins at seven with Irvine, a poor, misplaced, pre-med dominated politician, emerging from his room and asking the eternal question: Who ' s going to Bryn Mawr? Finding everyone gone with all four cars, he goes disgustedly to the Post Office, collects the mail, and picks up his French House date. Returning to Haverford he finds all the roommates assembled with their dates. Fritz and Nick arc vainly trying to complete last Sunday ' s Times crossword puzzle, while playing bridge, talk- ing non-commitally to their dates and drinking beer. The telephone rings and Winsor responds to the pleas of his social secretary by leaving soon there- after (in tux and tails) for another of his obliga- tions which he takes with such good grace. The party continues until slowly degeneracy sets in, and inevitably the singing starts. Fettus brings out his trumpet to lend sweet harmony to the strident chorus, but his efforts are little appreciated. Mar- quardt makes the first move for Hammerbook, Jack ' s precious goldfish that has survived alcohol, vegetable dye, cigarette ashes, and .1 host of other remnants oi debaucheries. Fettus, with a shout of There ' s trouble, gives chase and saves his golden pal from more of the same. Dressed in his cricket blazer and holding sunn- Bacardi. Al moves through the room looking for ice. Fritz finally makes it across the room, gets ice, and then reaches for the beer with one hand while turn ing .1 new leaf with the other. Nick, left to his crossword puzzle, drops it tor his beloved Bach, beer, and his date. At Fritz ' s panicked realization that the beer is -one. a delegation of three is sent to Tenth, along with the mangled form of Fritz, draped in the blue pushcart of Sammy, Aldo ' s trusty janitor. On arrival, Fritz ' simian toes are displayed clutching a can. and the rest of the evening supply is uncere- moniously dumped in upon him. Returning to the Plaza, Innes, rather than cope with the many bird dogs, turns his attention to Lennox, our most hearty moose. Mistaking Lennox for A. G. Loewy, the subject naturally (for Jerry) turns to McGill, Biology, favorite faculty friends — Aldo and Shaky Bill, and last but not least an aquatic character known as Harry the Octopus. Meanwhile the rest of the pre-meds assemble for a toast to next year: Nick to Columbia and Mexican night life; Jack to Temple, lifeguarding, and dubious celebrating; Fritz to Hopkins, procrastination, Beaver, and avoiding falling in the mud when chaste; and Funston to Northwestern, Miss Bl-esslinger, and his future in the AMA. Migration time arrives, but not before Fritz has left the room with a small grin and a can, leaving Funston suddenly confronted by two dates, demand- ing the summoning of all diplomatic powers. On the advice of the honorary roommate. Sturgis, the crew leaves for BMC and the friendly smiles of Angus. Upon the return, a little race is in order around Haverford ' s Senior Raceway. Two blue cars and four fiendish grins pierce the silence of collegiate night. The grand and final entrance to the dorm presents a curious sight as six roommates (Winsor has returned, and condescendingly looks on the evi- dences of gentle debaucheries) watch while the seventh performs the amazing feat of falling upstairs. A final bull -session ensues before the exodus to the sack is led by Innes. who asks, Who ' s getting up for breakfast? A pathetic negative groan is uttered before tenuous peace and silence at last pervade the campus. Sixty-one Excerpts from a Paper, Probably Erroneous ... In a college such as Haverford where great emphasis is placed upon intellect, it is to be expected that athletes could not develop a sub-group with sufficient ethno ' centrism to survive. That is why the only fraternities on campus, which are for athletes (Triangle Society and Beta Sigma Rho) are so secret that few non-members know that they exist. Consequently there are two basic sub-groups, each of which demands a high degree of marginal differentiation (i.e. internal, authorized, limited, variation). Within these groups the adjusted Haverfordian derives his tastes, con ' sumption, interests, residence, and activities. A Haverfordian is either a Casual or an Intellecutal or an Out-of-it. The Casuals are jocks and non-jocks who season their philosophy with wild oats. The Intellectuals regard themselves as intellectual. They are no more intelligent. But they think they are, and so do the Casuals. The Out-of-its vary in perspicacity as much as in oddity. The Casual lives as the average American thinks that collegiates live. The Intellectual lives as Americans fear collegiates live. The Casuals like good best- sellers and musical comedies. The Intellectuals like novels with a message. They follow the trends, the essences in literature. They only like a play with a point, preferably applicable to daily life. There is a world of difference between the down to earth girl of the Casual and the spirited girl of the Intellectual. The former is more buxom. In the library the Casual asks for the new Life, the Intellectual wants the 7 £eu ' Yorker. The Casual knows his Rodgers, Porter, and Harold Rome. The Intellectual knows his Beethoven, Bach, and Bartok. Conversation among Casuals revolves around jazz, sex jokes, and slapstick or practical jokes. Casuals french beds, have water-fights. Intellectuals talk about philosophy or esthetics. They pun endlessly. Jokes are based on the fall-guy ' s ignor- ance. The Casuals vehement concern with extra-mural athletics is halved by the Intellectuals. The Intellectuals ' grave tension over marks is not matched by the Casuals. The intellectuals man the J.V. teams. The Casuals man the Varsities. The Casuals have the minor roles in campus organizations. The Casual must be especially good at something. The Intellectual must be especially informed about something. The Casual must wear the informal collegiate uniform, including white bucks. The Intellectual wears the formal uniform with cordovans. On big weekends the Casuals make an effort not to get drunk and succeed. The Intellectuals try hard to get drunk and fail. The Casual must know names and current events in the world of sports. The Intellectual is burdened with a range of subjects ha must be able to discuss: names in the graphic arts, literary stars, composers and musical artists, actors, playwrights, sociologists, psychologists. He needn ' t know these people or their work; but he must have a satisfactory, slightly twisted cliche to apply to each. If a student does not adopt either of these patterns which only seem but are not really unclear, he is odd. He is Out-of-it (a causal remark). He is Marginal (an intellectual remark). He dresses as he wishes, has his own interests. He studies if he wishes. And vaguely, he is uncomfortable. He compensates by defense mechan ' isms such as scholarship or reserve. More often he is mixed up than he is autonomous. But occasionally he really is above it all. This is never obvious . . . Sixty-two K w«iw— ' ■■ Music Despotic, benevolent and beloved, but despotic. Bill Reese rants and fumes, disparages and cajoles one hundred and fifty students into happily and musically bursting their lungs. The mob reports with more than academic regularity every Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday, enticed by the prospect of winter and spring trips through the southland. No other club on the Haverford campus nearly approached the Glee Club in the number and enthusiasm of its members. This would have been impossible without the flashing personality of their director. With sarcasm, with distemper, with dis- appointment at failures, with his pleasure at suc- cesses, Dr. Reese made the rehearsals themselves a delightful experience. He creates, not simply trains, those voices we hear floating from Union on .1 spring night. Successfully these voices were raised at the Bryn Mawr and Haverford Christmas concerts. Together the schools sang the Bach cantata Wachet auf, ruft uns die Stimme (No. 140). Then each chorus sang works suggestive of technical .1 capella etudes. Dur- ing a spring vacation there were concerts at Goucher and Hood, in April at Vassar. A more select group of singers was the Octet which usually consisted of at least nine mutually complementing voices. Their chief purpose bes : des ars gratia artis of singing together, was entertaining at dances while the hand stopped for beer. They too visited girls ' schools. The orchestra, on the other hand, did not travel. It presented fewer concerts, and was less populous, more homogeneous, and more serious. The players were usually more informed and proficient. They and the composers in the theory courses constituted a musical elite which even the pseudo-intellectuals couldn ' t question. Ed Minnich plays, in the orchestra, the violin- Sixty-four cello. He ' s spent four years under the despot ' s baton. In his first year after Westtown he was a shy and serious fellow, voluble only when discussing politics. Although he ' s more relaxed now, and can laugh at himself more often, he still discusses politics at the drop of a hat. Sometimes Ed ' s words come before his thoughts, especially when he is defending his pet ideas, the Republican party and the mon- archy. Since he ' s a history major, Ed knows (he ' ll have you know) all the facts. This may yet make him pretender to some European throne. If Ed puts all his facts together sometime, he may come up with something and we ' ll all be certain to hear about it. Ed plans to go into law. He ' ll fare well there if only he comes to the courtroom on time. Lateness fits him though, after all he is a Republican. Con ' sequently, we usually find him in the Coop haranguing Ernie Kirkjian. Ed can make himself heard. Ed plays the violincello, quite well too. If he doesn ' t make out at law or politics, he can always fall back on his cello. , mmi:}%i- m irmv.j Sixty six Class Night Referred to .1- .1 tribal ritual, .1 Saturnalia, and, most inaccurately, a non alcoholic Mardi ' Gras, Class Night was Haverford ' s most vulnerably collegiate institu- tion. On .1 Thursday and .1 Friday night in March, after weeks of rumors; rehearsals, mil classroom absenteeism, each class presented .1 half ' hour play. Suffering from more conventions than .1 Plautine comedy, the plays were limited in themes, develop- ment, humor, and merit. It is untrue, however, that success hinged on how long and how securely .1 play walked the fence between boredom and obscenity. Very untrue. The Freshman show had the most to say; unfortunately even in Class Night productions actors are expected to do something. Nevertheless its witty tirade of philosophic and Bohemian eliehes, its mustard and ketchup finger painting, its set, a typical provincial Main Line concept of an arty Village bar with outside tables, and its well executed slams at liquor ads, all made it the most successful Freshman show in four years. But when they did walk the fence, they fell with gigantic boredom into their own milorganite. The Sophomores had at least a fine opening. Lamenting the death of our dietitian, in morose lighting — student waiters stood around a dining room table banging knives in time to a dirge. After this they were a good deal more active and a great deal more moribund. There was the usual extreme and insipid mimicry of Mr. Caselli, the sub-dietitian Miss Jones, and the non-conformist student, this time R. W. Kilpatrick. There were suggestive songs in masculine accents, and the crowd scene replete — quite replete with students jumping in the aisles from the balcony. A junior, Neil Plass, alias Widsid the Wandered was led by Omar Khayyam (Binny Haviland) through various forests to the Mountain of Wisdom or some such thing. In the Forest of Fear Don Crane and Bill Moss danced a frightful ballet while a stationary chorus flicked flashlights on and off. It was impressionistic and impressive. A Christ-like Prometheus participated in the jaunt, presumably to occasion the toast: Life to the Liver. Incidentally, the secret of wisdom turned out to be a mirror. The juniors won the faculty prize for the best Class Night show. The best play was the seniors ' . From the first song with its . . . We ' re just two girls avoiding the cops And we just won ' t leave until we solve our fix . . . the play consisted of a stream of blatantly subtle references to simple sex. Two luscious jailbreakers, John Thomas and John Hawkins, hide out in an unspecified men ' s college dorm (Founders). This necessitates imprisoning two roommates at gun point, and we are led to understand that Sandy Wieland and John Pfaltz do make the most, if not the bes t, of their plight. Rather obtrusively Mr. Hawkins, Addie that is, danced fetchingly. It was impressionistic. The next morning Sandy, in a telephone conversation very much too good for Class Night, wrangles out of his lieutenant governor pop a pardon for the girls. Barclay Kuhn, who in the Freshman show complained about sweeping milorganite, said, I ' m gon ' a improve myself, I ' ve got more in me than this. But on the other hand. Class Night is a kind of tradition. Sixty-seven Drama In March, 1 9 5 5 5 the once-in-college-lifetime Bryn Mawr faculty show necessitated the Drama Club production which usually occurs on that weekend to he pushed a week ahead. I understand an extra week of rehearsal was added at the beginning; if so, it wasn ' t generally apparent. The production chosen was Arms and the Man and required, as doc .ill Shaw, a spontaneity which was noticeably lacking, with the possible exception of John Pfaltz as Major Petekoff. Harvey Phillips gave a lively, if inaccurately interpreted, performance as Blunt- schli. In May the Drama Club presented Tennessee Williams ' The Glass Menagerie. In my opinion the play suffered badly from poor casting and mis ' interpretation. The production was successful in its lighting and set — two aspects of our plays seldom noteworthy in the least. Fall, 195=;, saw the arrival on campus of a new permanent director of the Bryn Mawr and Haver- ford organizations — one Bob Butman — whose effect, 1 ft fi«k ffSfrlF 0ttJt ■ 1 jLtm f 1 fiv . • fci irk JiT pi ft Mk. ' K r - |T J af P V Sixty-eight even among the non-dramatic majority on the two campuses, was revitalizing. The first production un- der Mr. Butman ' s aegis was Much Ado About nt i ing. [nterest in this production hit an all-time high at both colleges, and those closely connected with the -how demonstrated , n enthusiasm for both show and director not usual on our stage. The performances showed this; they were described by the sentimental as the best in our history. Having arrived .it Haverford in 1952, I cannot vouch for our whole histrionic history, hut it was without question the best show of my tour years of dra- matics experience here. To outline the east or dis- cuss set and lighting would take much longer than I am allowed and praise makes dull reading except to those praised, so I shall woefuly neglect these aspects and comment on two other which I find as interesting and. inevitably, more important. Much Ado was the first production I have heard about in our organization where friction was elimi- nated. It seems only an incidental problem to the outsider, but within the club this friction has always gone so far out of hand as frequently to prove of great detriment to the performances, not to mention satisfaction and efficiency in rehearsals. It has taken many forms; factions within the Bryn Mawr and Haverford organizations, or discontent with the Sixty-nine director hy some members of the cast whose dis- satisfaction has a tendency to spread through mutter ' ings like a malignant growth and, on occasion, has resulted in mutiny. Another friction has existed be ' tween the stage crew and the director; in this the cast generally takes sides too. This mess is not in- frequent in our productions, but Mr. Butman, by patience and understanding, mixed with uncon- trollable enthusiasm and above all optimism, man- aged to quell all such cancers and to run a smoother rehearsal schedule, if perhaps a more noisy one, than we have witnessed here. My other comment on Much Ado deals briefly with the directing itself. Mr. Butman, with Pro- methean endurance, managed to convey in his pro- duction his appreciation of Shakespeare which was shared by all participants. There was as well an emphasis on what the play had to say, a rewarding unity and compromise of sense and poetry appreci- ated by audience and workers. There was excellent basic acting too. The production, winch hardly flaw- less, showed all these aspects and many more w had culminated in a unified artistic creation of awe some calibre. It was with trepidation, then, that we went m March to the first performance of The Trojan Women, which was in the unfortunate position of following Much Ado About Toothing. The first of the two performances so well actualized all my fears that it was largely a failure. Fortunately, I forced myself to attend the second and final performance and was well rewarded by my patience. One pur- pose in choosing Trojan ' Women was the dearth of men for the March production because of Class Night. With this understanding, the untutored may have the impression that The Trojan Women is a sort of Phil Spittalani and his ' All Girl Orchestra ' in togas — Hecuba on the Harp, etc. But the play is hardly frivolous, dealing ostensibly with the horrors of war and of punishments inflicted on various ladies of Ilion. However, there were enough males in- volved to provide balance. Bryn Mawr is touched with the stigma of not equalling the dramatic talent of Haverford, but this show proved that what little they have is of top quality. I would specifically mention Pat Moran whose work was advanced and excellent, showing an enormous labor of love well rewarded. While I can not honestly grow effusive over the other Bryn Mawr performances, they were all adequate, and some had occasional moments of beauty. The Haverford contribution was not so overwhelmingly brilliant that the result was not an even and happy one. The play is a tour-de-force for Hecuba (Miss Moran), but it also offers quantities of great poetry with flashes of beauty and fire which were usually, and unfortunately, presented by the chorus. Attempts by the director to make each member an individual were not altogether success- ful and, I feel, were hampered by the music which, while a very effective background, when sung by the chorus proved more distracting than contribut ing; certainly il mangled the poetry winch became largely unintelligible. But the production was .1 daring and moving one, enhanced by effective light ' ing and other generally successful technical experi- ments The final performance was an achievement living up to the expectations and reputation war- ranted by Much Ado. Again, as in the Shakespeare, the message of the play was clear and m communion with the methods employed. For the final show of the season, Shaw ' s Man and Superman has been chosen. I can sincerely look forward to it with anticipation rather than appre- hension. As to behind the scenes. or the administrative year, it was an efficient one. The familiar Haverford attitude is apathy and its claimed lack of depth and breadth. Both are a sort of Medusa ' s head to those who constantly worry about it. They were remark- ably lacking in the Drama Club this year, largely due to Mr. Butman ' s personality. This may give an indication of an autocracy, particularly as this year the club could find no candidate for president with whom it was satisfied or vice versa. Harvey Phillips was chosen with a happy wink at the constitution be- cause he will not be with us next year. At the end of the Spring ' 56 semester a successor for the second half of his term will be elected. But the present situation is not an autocracy. If it is, I still approve. Anyone objecting to a policy or decision has always, as now. felt free to present it volubly. But one must be prepared to defend his point of view in thought- ful discussion, as well as just ' bulling ' or bullying his friends into agreement. So it seems that the Drama Club ha- become an extracurricular activity on campus without precedent: it not only gives excellent results, keeps its participants content, but apparently in addition to this considerable amount oi good cheer, the members are thinking on their own. What are we coming to? Perhaps tli II. Drama Club, not only successful unto itseli ha begun to produce the New Haverford Man . . . en- thusiastic and thoughtful. John Hawkins will probably best be remembered a- a sometime leader and fulltmie pro-antagonist i improvement in the dramatic arts. Consequently it was an almost unreserved delight for him to write the above review. Beginning with a rather brief and dismal athletic career, he seemed to find himself in his second year, even if Haverford had not yet found him. He had several accomplishments. He luckily discovered roommates generous with their transportation and hi-fi equipment, willing to toler- ate his acid tongue and public histrionics. He was elected president of the Drama Club. He created and directed the senior Class Night show, for which he received the best-actor award. We expect that John will mold his musical, literary, and dramatic talents into a truly creative theatrical career, and thus complete the legend of Walpole ' s Astonishing Hawkins Brothers (to appear in the June 1976 Readers ' Digest) . Rodney Clurman also took the theatre seriously, though his interest was less histrionic and more in- tense than usual. Each September he returned from vacations spent directing little theatre groups, study- ing at Stratford, or, of course, touring Europe. Each Seventy-one June, he left having produced or directed a few plays and reviewed several. It was the kind rather than the extent of his aetivity which called for his hustling manner, his impeccable dress, and his aloof reserve. But John Pfaltz, puckish and proud of it, let his booming stage-trained voice cause more than one person to withdraw to the library, and his persua- siveness caused many to abandon hope of study for an evening of western flicks. His practices with gun powder, soon to be subsidized by the U. S., were merely the refections of an explosive nature which is capable of bursting into folderol on the spur of the moment. With his normal ebullience, John fre- quently plunged into discussions to weave adroitly intellectual fabrics. Yet, mysteriously, he could re- treat for competent study. His quiet social hours came on the cricket field, where he chats or con- tempi, ites esoteric philosophical subjects with be- coming tranquility. With amazing seriousness, he enjoys extending bull-sessions with unorthodox state- ments such as, war is good; we need wars! Never a here to his friends, and always an enigma to his friendly enemies during a siege, he is, if only when asleep, a continual joy to all. On the other hand, Gerald Goodman sometimes thinks of Haverford College as a damp jungle, over- grown with vines and flowering plants, stifling, humid, dark, and dense. There he sniffed rare blooms of philosophy, of mathematics, of history, poetry and drama. And, following the fetid trails inward, he was led by stages to see that often flowers that grow in the darkness lack the fullness of blossoms that bloom m the light. The technicians, unlike everybody else, sought and received no glory. But one of the most re- markable improvements in recent Haverford drama has been the better sets and lighting. The dean of our lighting and stage design was Jon Dungan who, in three years, progressed from a sunken garden suite to a Scull House single, bringing with him a hi-fi set, an avid interest in anything automotive, various buckets of paint, a shelf full of psychology books, and a taste for interior decorating. In the transition, there was Evans ' M6 Engine behind the sofa, a $240 Hudson, a $200 cycle, a $40 Plymouth ( Annie ), and a Rorsche Speedster. A refimsher of fine old abused furniture, a sailor, a proprietor of a Samovar, a flautist, a poet, a devotee of fine music and Pembroke. Jon earns the fine spelling of his name by the cosmopolitan life he leads. Seventy-tivo The Junior Class After the year of confused introduetion, after the year of violent assimilation, comes the year of quiet appreciation. After the abortive rebellion against Customs ' tyranny, after the vociferous enthusiasm in favor of it, comes the year of sensible under ' standing of its purpose. After the discouraging horror of voluminous assignments, after the blatant omission of them, comes the year of discerning which can be scanned and which can not. After the pro- fessors are masters, after they are buddies, comes the year in which they are teachers. After Leeds is considered luxury, after Barclay is found to be bedlam, comes the year in which Scull is sanctu- ary. After the prep school blazers are replaced with red and black ones, after the white bucks are doffed and the cordovans donned, comes the year of the light grey flannel. After Fundamentalism, after Atheism, comes the year of Agnosticism. Depleted seriously, hut maintaining their own unobtrusive identity, the junior class settled down to conservative sanity and nicely defined cliques. Its scholastic and athletic achievements seemed to verge on the better side of mediocrity, which gave it decided advantage over its younger brethren. After Class Night, the class gave a formal ( preferred ) dance which, of course, was the big event of the spring. It was a grand success and a fine time was had . . . It ' s all a sort of tradition. Seventy-three The Natural Sciences Physics The new look in the physics department started with the resignation of Dr. Richard Sutton, its former chairman. Immediate changes were forth- coming, especially in the elementary physics, where a student is no longer required to spend ten hours outside work for every hour in the lab. Although Lemonick has never gone to the point of dropping students down the pendulum shaft, to demonstrate Doppler Effect, his lectures are always dynamic and forceful. Since You can solve any problem by F=ma, most of the work in elementary physics was teaching the student the applications and the implications of Newton ' s Laws. In contrast to elementary physics, which is taught at a fairly low level for the benefit of the premeds, the more advanced courses eater to those interested in Physics. Here a student first comes into contact with Thomas A. Benham, T.A. to his friends. Benham, who is known outside class for his tortuous derivation, is equally well-known outside of class for the hospitality which he and his wife extend to all. When not occupied with classes or students re- porting problems he is invariably in his studio re- cording his Science for the Blind programs. Although the Physics department cannot compare with the diversity of courses offered in larger schools, it is doing a remarkable job with the available facilities. i- — — ™ 1 ™ i w 1 M ' -iAfci. Jr — 7 2Jt Vm Lemonick talks to a eugeni Seventy-four Astronomy The Lesson of the Master The manifestations oi youth arc dual and some oi them are those ol maturity .« well. The quiet manner of Louis Green, his utterly precise scholar- ship, his disciplined imagination, his boundless per- spicacity, his endearing friendliness, are all qualities that flower in maturity that is youthful. His patience with Physical Science students who are majoring in English and his unorthodox but tasteful sport coats, are equally rare among his confreres. In the observa- tory even the stars were influenced by his sanguine ingenium. Young Dan Harris, but a shadow of his former self since Grace Kelly announced her engagement, will be assured of a place in Haverford annals as one of Louie Green ' s few and far between. With Auntie ' s culinary masterpieces, he has won an equally firm position in his roommates ' eyes (or Stomachs). Long a devote of the Haverford institu- tion of study dates, Dan has developed a fine fireside technique this year, even venturing to Hick- site land for new timber. All of Dan ' s activities are characterized by youthful enthusiasm. His cymbals mark his presence at football rallies, the pop of fruit juice cups in the dining hall. Dan is considering moving his Tom Lehrer records, his telephone lock, and his rocket to Princeton ' s ivy halls next year, though the thought of black gowns at dinner deters this convinced non-conformist. Dan ' s careful hand- ling of corporate funds have made it clear that this is one star-gazer who has his feet firmly im- bedded in reality. Seventy-jive Chemistry For a number of years the department of chem- istry has been considered Havcrford ' s best. This view is still held, even by political science and English majors, though this year ' s seniors have be come aware of some imperfections. In the zeal to present well-organized material and to build a strong foundation for later wo rk, the elementary courses often seem to depend too much on good memories. In several of the advanced courses there is a lack of depth, in part due to the very nature of the science. Throughout the department, there is a dearth of the rigorous mathematical treatment so important in modern science. Again, it does not seem right that so many of the department ' s policies are dictated by pre-medical considerations, especially since so few of the pre-med majors take many of the advanced courses. « .v, .. m W£gf , Jbrl ;i Cr Still the department as built up by William B. Mcldrum is basically a sound one. The grand old man of the department has rather completely handed over the reins this year to T. O. Jones, but he still exerts a powerful influence through his systematic teaching, his textbooks, and his friendly and interested advising. T. O., if given a fair chance to operate effectively as the new chairman, may do much to correct the flaws mentioned. At present, he is busy seeking new personnel to counteract the rather heavy inroads made by industry and other schools. T. O. ' s jokes are as important a part of the Haverford chemical education as are Meldrum ' s Seventy-six Spectaculars of Chem 13 and Spring Day, and Cadbury ' s slide rule for transfers umbei in Chem 28. The Dean, though but .1 sometimi member of the department, will be remembered for his well organized lectures, his social scieno I I ing techniques, and fur his ancient physical chemis- try lab. Ii eems, and accurately, .1- though most ol the chemistry majors live in the same campus n although thi phenomenon has not yet been defini- tivel) explained Po ibly it ' - too difficult to find extra ' departmental majors up to an mtelleetu.il level with them. Possibly it ' s too difficult to find other majors who will put up with them. For exampl( in Secend Entry Leeds, huddled together (perhaps lor warmth. ' ) are Mark Freed ' man, John Gould, and Robin McDowell. And next door John Mikhail and Boh Traut. A communion of like souls. Onee he had disposed of the attraction to Eco- nomies. Mark applied himself to the Magic of Chemistry, and to the perplexity of chemical room- mates. Aside from their cosmic supply of practical jokes, Mark had to deal with their unjustified jests at his sluggish arising. The compensation for all this was the release of aggressive impulses on the baseball diamond and the weekly chance to re- cuperate at home. Renowned for his love of sleep, reputedly fond of trips to Holyoke, and covertly devoted to beer, Mark ' s roommate, John Gould, was a paragon of casual collegiate living. Although this casualness dictated an eternally sloppy room, it never mitigated his affinity toward the chem lab, where all sorts of exciting tricks are possible. Consequently, he earned a bad reputation with pre-meds who often discovered him doing unassigned experiments which weren ' t even spectacular. Young, self-effacing Dick Rush has brought a hit of oid Dixie to the chemical world here. His laboratory students have known the delights that come from careful planning, while his Chem 32 students have come to admire his courage in struggles with the demon, Calculus. Craig Culbert, who again this year attempted to unscramble freshman messes in Chem 13 lab, also guided confused seniors through the intricacies of modern organic theory. We see now why his predecessor sought escape 111 meta- physeal gymnastics. This year Culbert even dared to devise a final that saw no 90 ' s and an organic lab without thionyl chloride. Seventyseven Though on the surface a senior chem major ' s taking a Quinn course might seem to be more bravado than wisdom, in Rob McDowell ' s case it was -imply an expression of an artistic tempera- ment; not at all a contradiction of his chemical bent. There are, however, even for Robbin, ehem prob- lems which are more distressing than delightful, and when they arise he resorts to art forms like Playboy, and intra-dorm sports like water fights. Or perhaps he revises his study schedule and flicks out. Next door, John Mikhail, one of the few sur- vivors of freshman year ' s Scull House crew, still retains the amazing vocabulary he acquired there. His near mystical monologues at nightly tea sessions show the strong influences of Ned Snyder and Martin Foss. Humanized scientists will also trace the origin of his familiar, Hail to thee, blithe spirit! Despite John ' s ability to discuss the Allied Jewish Appeal with restraint, certain mysterious Sunday afternoon conclaves and foreign publications featuring flaming torches leave little doubt as to his political inclinations. While the political science and conservation department regret this loss, the chem department welcomed the gain of a good research man. The more mundane chem club will remember this year ' s president for his brilliant accomplishments in the field of refreshments. Such administrative ability will certainly figure signifi- cantly in Jordan ' s future, which John assures us will be bright. John ' s roommate also has his political ties, for although he has done so amazing a job at Haverford that his future seems assured through the magic name of Rockefeller, Rob Traut remains Pomona College ' s foremost propagandist. Whether examining the relative merits of garden peas and lima beans or the foundations of the quantum theory, he showed the same serious-minded concentration. Though the most outspoken critic of the department, Rob joined the chem faculty as an instructor this year. Yet, no narrow scientist was this lad; indeed he shocked certain intellectual peers by stooping to a Sports Illustrated subscription. Other interests even tend dangerously toward philosophy, so that if Haver- ford ' s educational ideals are right, this boy should be able to bounce right through life. Rob ' s phenomenal success as a practical joker can be traced to his possession of the perfect innocent look. Rarely seen with the same girl twice, he could nut decide whether this fact was a result or a cause of his tussles with Erich Fromm and Doug Heath. In his irrational moments, a rare concession to Freud, he was known to mumble significantly about Audrey Hepburn. Seventy-eight In the next entry is another serious chemist, Boh Togasaki. who forsook San Francisco for Tokyo, Tokyo for Exeter, and Exeter. As with Mark Freed- man, ehcmistry was a late love inspired mainly by the clear leetures of Melclrum and the obtuse ones of Chase Hall. If not with a chem book, Bob was debating, or performing for the Intern.ition.il Club, or reporting for the Hews, or helping Pop Hadd!eton s erew of broad jumpers. In the time that all this activity spared, he discussed Japan at the drop of a prejudice or read the bundles of newspapers that irritated Billy Carter. At Cornell it will all start all over again. The other lair of chemists was also the lair ol mi 1 1 In Si venth I ntry mighl hi ai th -In ait Towson, Md. calling Richard Monroe col- lect! The Litter drops Playboy and turn down Swan La e befon answering. Dick started out to lead a fairly normal life in the chem lab until he joined Barlow, .1 philosopher. Through association he then became able to justfy his pursuit of medi- cine, and many of his other views of life which came, as it happened, under desultory firi II breeding as a Southern Gentleman was not wasted; he faithfully attended the big weekends and aeted as loyal protagonist for the oft-beleaguered Barlow. Buffeted by cynics, questioned by moralists, Dick deserves credit for remaining basically philanthropic. And next door lived Bob Greer who, after ex- pressing an early interest in water fights and the intricate workings of air pistols, soon put away childish things when he heard the clarion call of the Students ' Council. Much campaigning and three years Liter, he was known respectfully as the Pre- tender to the Council throne. Aside from fulfilling Council duties, meeting Class Night commitments, and making infrequent appearances on W.H.R.C. Bob has managed to establish a fine record as a Chem major. Future plans include a four-year stay at Medical school and incredible visions of becom- ing a horse-and-buggy doctor in the hills of Tennes- Seventy-nine The chemists not found in the close circles of Lloyd and Leeds either almost roomed off campus, or completely took the plunge into the inconvenience of commuting. Boh Patt, who was never one for extremes, roomed in College Circle in his senior year. Bob ' s approach to his studies and life in gen- eral never was passionate. His former neighbors in those cubicles of Founders grew accustomed to his usual routine of jumping up from his homework every ten minutes, bounding into the next door cell, and softly cursing Fate and the insurmountable obstacles awaiting him the next morning. After ten minutes more of mental juggling, he would be up again, and so on into the wee hours. By persever- ance and a little luck he fought off the academic hound in the Chemistry labs and then took on those of the psychology department. The scholastic ordeal was mitigated by occasional trips with sundry femi- nine companions including Bryn Mawtyrs. The most delightful memory we have of Bob centers around a bright smile which was as friendly as it was casual. Jerry Klinman is one of the small hand of day Students who appear each morning, then after classes and labs disappear back to their quiet homes and mother ' s cooking. His life for the past four years has been focused on only one object, to gain admission to medical school. Toward this end, he calmly braved the strains of physics under the anaen regime and confounded the A.C.S. chemistry majors with astounding grades in organic. Un- assuming and straightforward, he will find his office and pockets filled by suffering humanity soon after he nails up a shingle. But commuting implies nothing about perspective. Steve Knowlton was as familiar a sight on third base as he was in a lab. Probably most of his pleasure in commuting was the chance to monkey with his beloved blue Ford. This was enough motivation to make him willing to face the Lloyd-like parking for four years more at Penn. There was a reliability about Steve that made him invaluable on the dia- mond and the best note-taker in the Chemistry department. With a certain Jackie in mind to share the title of Dr. and Mrs. Knowlton, he is the ideal example of the pre-med Haverfordian. Eighty Vertebrae and Invertebrae Like the Chemistry Department, Biology at Haverford is a department with a past. The Biology Department, however, appears to have a future as well. When the class of 1956 arrived at Haverford, this past was represented by a man who was, in the best sense, a scholar rather than a pedagogue. Dixie Dunn ' s lectures bore a distinct resemblance to the tropical rain forest with which he was so familiar: they were weird, proliferating masses of often eon- fused facts, definitions, distinctions, unfinished sen ' tences, esoteric humor, and anecdotes. Nevertheless, by the force of his own immense knowledge of natural history. Dr. Dunn ' s presence made the de ' partment a powerhouse in that division of biology. With both of its original members dying in the space of three years, the department might well have been left a shambles. Instead, it was left in the logarithmic phase of growth, a dynamo with an unbalanced but rapidly expanding economy. Within the last three years, the Biology Depart- ment ' -; enrollment has increased three- to fourfold, has installed two completely new labs, and re- ceived $18,500 in grants from the National Science Foundation and Carnegie Foundation to equip them. In addition to continuing all previous natural his- tory courses (except special work in herpetology) , it has introduced three semesters of modern experi- mental biology: a semester of physiology, one of physiology Lib, and one of bio-chemistry. The intro- ductory course has been drastically modernized into The Physical Basis of Life. serving up a somewhat disorderly but highly nutritive fare upon which some pre-medical students, expecting salad, have been known to gag. Philips Visitors from far and near converge upon the department to petrify students with information so up-to-date that it is available in current research literature rather than textbooks. Surprisingly, the overseer of these doings is an affable, absentminded physiologist who gives the im- pression of being as far away from the hustling efficient, unapproachable administrator as is humanly possible. Ariel Lowey has been known to forget about classes, and bets are occasionally made as to when he will mislay a Philips Visitor. Nevertheless, he has proved that the bustling manner and dicta- phone in the desk drawer are not necessarily pre- requisites for progress. Although the spinning of grandiose plans is obviously an occupational disease at Haverford, the recent mushrooming of Biology makes it appear not unlikely that future Alumni will return to find that department a bewildering welter of government grants, senior research, electron microscopes, ultra- modern morphology, and chemistry (post T. W. Richards) as involved in biological phenomena. Willie White, falsely reputed to carry the King James Version m th.it brief case stuffed with Biology text-, is the campus Fundamentalist as well as senior member of the circle of biological seniors. Actually, however he is quite logical, and, even more surprising for Fundamentalists, polite. It ' s all your own fault if you get into an argument with him over the merit of missions or the folly of faith. He doesn ' t bring these subjects up; he prefers to talk about the chem- istry involved in biological phenomena. And he ' s only vituperative when condemning sociologists, and isolationists. It has been hinted, in spite of his amaz- ing knowledge, biological and medical, that the real reason he ' s going to be a missionary as well as a doctor is to avoid having his mistakes embalmed. Eighty-one The Mathematics Club Cletus Oakley didn ' t teach this year, but worked busily away behind an abstractly embellished door, in a room which contained dusty books, duplicating machines, goose-necked lamps, loose necked secre- taries, translucent table tops, chipped china tea cups. Bob James, Robert Wisner, and Richard V. Andree. And daily this trio would emerge from the mist of cigar smoke, squint for a moment at the sunlight on Founders ' porch, and repair to their offices where they would make themselves accessible to the undergraduates. Bob James would walk along the porch and enter Founders Hall, passing the mathematics bulletin board. Pinned within its freckled frame were stacks of printed problems (piled like coupons on the trolley ads), problems that dissolved into little purple puddles and came off dripping on your hands, if water chanced to spill on them. And that would make them unintelligible. (But sometimes we wouldn ' t have to spill the water to make them un- intelligible, and then a conference with Mr. James would follow.) And next to the problems were pinned the office hours, always wrong, and some- times a personal note: Stan — I shall be at home baby-sitting all after- noon, with an almost illegible signature at the bottom. Bob James would smile at the board, open the door on which it hung, greet Albert Wilson, shuffle past the exhibition cases full of plastic polyhedra and plaster castings that looked like ostrich eggs, seat himself at his desk, and spend the rest of the day absorbed in Banaeh spaces, Edith ' s cupcakes, and students ' queries. It was harder for Robert Wisner. He would have to make his way over to Hilles Lab (stepping around mounds of milorganite en route), climb to the second floor, and let himself into the partitioned area the college had given him as an office. There, amidst piles of Philips ' Lectures, he would meet with his students and hold forth on labor unions, used cars, imported beer, flexagon research, symbolic logic, and nil-potent torsion-free abelian groups. Act- ing like the doctor lie was. he would sometimes V. take the students ' questions and shake them into his precise technical terminology until they were dis- solved. But more often his enduring patience would win out and let the students glimpse the passion behind the terms, as they might glimpse the pink threads beneath the black in Robert Wisner ' s Quaker business suit. And after the glance into the sunlight, Richard Andree would return to the smoke-filled office from which he had emerged, spy the colored chalk on the board (there was black for use when the boards got clouded with white dust), and pound out an assignment on his Old English typewriter. Then he would collect the pages of his calculus notebook and wonder where his paper grader was. With a sigh he would recall his University of Oklahoma, but his eye would catch Cletus Oakley peering over his spectacles at the fuzzy dog on the floor; he would think of the secretaries and the soul-searching stu- dents, and he ' d remember the sunlight and be glad he came to Haverford College. Stanley Mazurek had no such reminiscences. He came to Haverford on a Monday, left the following Friday, and hasn ' t spent a weekend here since. In the same spirit he chose to room for three years in Merion which was only nominally on campus. The fantastically mathematic mind that carried him tri- umphantly through every battle with matrices made him the best bridge player in Merion in a matter of weeks. When evicted from that now defunct haven, in Lloyd he found solace in basketball, Russian Bank, and becoming engaged. He would shuffle into the room with a scowl and a word appropriate to his mient. As with bridge, Mike Stephens taught him the fundamentals of this, but with his natural skill he soon outbid his tutor. Frank (Dut) Duttenhofer would come into 43 Lloyd before the 10 P.M. math class in the Coop, smiling in spite of the good example Stan gave him. Blandly he endured the suffocating smoke of those vile cigarettes and refused the incessant enticements to bridge. But as a sort of revenge he carried with him a bag of itchy puns. Then after politely reject- ing the plastic cup of fermenting tea, he and Stan would amble out of our lives to hear more about used cars, imported beer, and flexagon research. 7 H. The Philosophic Engineers Haverford, and we might as well admit it, is not an engineering school. While it is true that in a school like ours one could happily count on pro- ducing liberal minded, truly educated, engineers, it is unfortunately also the case that the automatons from the institutes are what the more narrow and numerous employers are looking for. People who eare about this transfer. Those who wish to have their slide-rule and philosophize about it too, stay. But all of this isn ' t to imply that engin majors have an easy time of it. The terms in which Clayton Holmes, Chief Engineer, is described suggests that he is to Science what Mr. Post is to Humanities. Both of them, despite any rumors to the contrary, bite heads only verbally. Mr. Holmes may snap at errors, but the analogy of a kitten is more apt than that of a panther. Theodore Hctzel is proficient with a camera, and devoted to the Friends ' Service Committee, and to students. His devotion to students can be observed in his patience with mechanic. il inaccuracy, or mostly in the case of the graduate students, with their in- cpitudc. For years he bore the weight of the STA program, but now it is quickly fading. Norman M. Wilson is celestially tolerant of the non-academic students building hi-fi sets on his valued machines in Hilles basement, but it is with the real students, the engineers, that he has a rapport which allows for jokes, and friendliness besides his efficient teaching. And of course we must mention his marksmanship and photography. The effect of these personalities on a student is typified in Charlie Lane. Shy and retiring, a para- gon of virtue, he arrived from Westtown. Having resolved to establish himself academically before turning to the fleshpots, he found that the former accomplished, the latter was impossible in spite of Glee Club tours and Bryn Mawr classes. Influenced by Shuster and the Saturday Review and vicarious experiences of the good old days, he became a pseudo-intellectual, criticized Hollywood and life in general, but upheld the Friendly way of life. His great solace was a Model A touring car. He is therefore, a culturally and morally enlightened engineer with a vast fu nd of useless knowledge. Eighty-three Psychology The Psych Animal after lying dormant several years has at last awoken to new activity under the constant prods and coaxing of Keepers Campbell and Heath. Using such sharp stimuli as value agglutination, contextual analyses, and conceptual syntheses, they have aroused the animal to a new and somewhat sophisticated level in the heirarchy of Haverford Academics. If Mike gets m, I ' ll get in. This philosophy sustained Vince through the many trials of his col- lege career. Fate tried to shaft him by replacing Pepinsky with Heath, but real grinding on Vince ' s part pulled him through. Clean living helped him too, for, unlike his 9th Entry fellows, Vince was never a heavy drinker; a glass of beer usu- ally made him sick. He doesn ' t smoke either, but he does fancy himself a real boy Giovanni. He b ecame interested in culture when he managed to overcome one obstreperous date by playing Tchai- kovsky. Since he did get in, Vince will make a fine doctor. When first taken in hand two years ago the Psych Animal was a small, shoddy, and slothful, collective organism, a mongrel among the other pedigreed departments and bearing a single distinc- tion — a gut atmosphere for all those pressured by the demands of the other more voracious ani- mals. With constant grooming in the combined fields of social and clinical psychology and the in- corporation of interested and able students the ani- mal assumed a new and more distinguished position alongside its companion departments. The truly able student, Dick Isay began his first year as a pros- pective English major. Sophomore year he was a philosophy major. Junior year he was a Psychology major. Senior year he turned pre- Med. a move which, God willing, will bring him back for a fifth year as a grad student, and a psychia- trist ' s shingle in the future. Ath- letically inclined, he almost sank Commodore Hummers Nautical Club, was the mainstay of Cas- selli ' s Italian Opera Team, and star pitcher on Mrs. Nugent ' s sandlot. In campus affairs he served on the Curriculum and Honor Sys- tem Committees, dabbled in Class Nights and the Glee Club, but triumphed in founding the Haver- ford-Bryn Mawr Psychology Club. Eighty- four The balanced efforts of John Campbell communi- cating i the animal its new role on the social and academic scene and Doug Heath putting the ani ni.il through .1 maze oi responsibilities and assign ments .it an accelerated pace have exhibited poteni tialities heretofore unanticipated oi the creature. rats and black bread. Then there will be the bleak year at graduate school. Bui knowing Tom, who would not say that this might re olvi it i li into quiet social work with lonely Pa ific women. The emergent animal is .1 -lock, active, and growing being whose increased size and power demand for it .1 position along with its fellow Haverford creatures. Its bark now commands attention and respect from both faculty and under- graduate element of the Haverford scene. Boh Wallace had a sensitivity and sympathy toward people which any of his classmates would have been hardpressed to match. This quality expressed itself in ways ranging from patient care of psych lab rats to being father con- fessor to any neurotic freshmen who happened along. Naturally this included some psychoanalysis (to which more seniors than Bob were addicted). His fee, based on ability to pay, averaged about $ 0,000. When not engaged in ses- sions, classes, work, or empirical research, he listened to hi-fi, loud. Tom Lademburg has laughingly been referred to as the Jungest Freudian in the psychology depart- ment, but this is only uttered by those who don ' t know Tom or who have a glum sense of humor. Early in his college life, Tom had trouble distinguishing between a birth trauma and an Oedipus complex, but things have worked out pretty well, what with dining hall head- waitermanship which means a pro- fusion of both, and Psychology training which means a profusion. He emerges not unscathed, but wiser, .i strange synthesis of white Eighty five Slightly Useful Endeavors The non-academic program, withering under the freedom that students have to cut or to sleep, offers its battered self as a proof that where there ' - no mark, there ' s no work. A Haverfordian is forced to take his choice between futilities ranging from week- end work camps to finger painting. No one doubts the social value of these diversions, but, with char- acteristically silent objection, more and more stu- dents are adopting the alternative of conscription in intramural athletics. Occasionally, however, someone with a mechanical bent can enjoy making his own hi-fi speaker; or someone fond of a paint brush delights in the art courses held at Baldwin. Such a guy is Sandy Wie- land, who is also fond of gleefully throwing blocks into unsuspecting roommates, crashing them into the sunken couch and exuberantly shouting ... and Maryland ' s star crashes over for a T.D.! His victim invariably snarls Calm down animal. This animalistic nature is further revealed in Sandy ' s notebook artistry (of which Fritz Janschka grudgingly approves) and his idiotic antics (in spite of the acquisition of civilized tastes for beer, cigars, and B.M.C.). Even his jokes, hardly aesthetic and constantly repeated, have helped to endear this irre- pressible artist to his almost wearied roommates. Contending with this animalism and artistry com- bined is rather unusual for Fritz Janschka and Wallace Kelly, both of whom have had enough PTA-type classes, and enough serious students, to endure the strain. Upstairs in one cold room, crowded with mobiles, easels, discarded paintings, and dilettante students, Janschka goes about suggest- ing, improving, even correcting. His delight is, of course that he can occasionally apply an aesthetic principle which, occasionally, the artist understands. Downstairs, Wallace Kelly, the jovial, kindly, and apparently never frustrated teacher of sculpture, fights a running battle to avoid clay modeling degeneracy. Eighty six Town, and the Man About It Haverford, which according to Paoli Local ads is only seventeen miles and twentytwo minutes from the center of .1 bustling metropolis, Phila- delphia, has its own entertainment,-;. There ' s the Suburban Movie Theatre, the Ardmore Movie Theatre, a bowling alley frequented by Lower Merion High Sehool girls, and one good, one medi ' ocre, and three bad restaurants. In Bryn Mawr there ' s another bad restaurant, another movie theatre, and a lenient bar. For a real bon vivant, needless to say, this is not quite adequate. And Jim McMasters, as anyone who has ever been to a Spanish House party will attest, is a real bon vivant. To know Jim MeMasters ' room in Merion (whieh except for his apartment has been bequeathed to the faculty) is to know its occupant. A telephone, a parlor piano, a television, and a small but complete kitchen are judiciously assigned to convenient nooks in this apartmentito, rooms embelished with exotic curios of Jim ' s Euro- pean and Latin American circuit. Although Jim prefes to spend his time talking with professors, or having them in for cocktails, rather than doing the work they assign, this does not prevent him from being always ready to drive his Florida tagged station wagon to any place where something is going on. A good movie at the Subur- ban, a new play at the Philadelphia Shubert, some rare quartet at the Academy, or, disgusting thought. a general whim in favor of Bobby ' s Luncheonette, all receive his condescending attention. Assuming, of course, that he is at Haverford, for at the slight- est hint of a big dance, Jim is invited to spend a weekend at almost any of the New England women ' s colleges. Otherwise, he is doing something or other at Bryn Mawr. His interests are as vast as his taste is good. His generosity is impressive. And long is the list of friends who have spent a Chris tmas or spring vacation in Cuba. Eighty-seven r The Clubs There are probably as many and varied clubs on the Haverford campus .is at any school of compar- able size. But they do not function as they do on most campuses. Friendship groups seldom spring from association in a particular extracurricular inter- est. There is little ego-identification with the oper- ation or success of the activity. Esprit de corps is never great enough to overcome the intraclub politi- cal machinations that usually take place. The cause of this is obvious. Haverford is so small and its student body so homogeneous, that it is possible for anyone who can find a friend at all to find a friend with whom he has more in common than a single interest expressed in a given club activity. When. as is sometimes the case, a small friendship group forms which consists primarily of persons belonging to a single organization, it is always true that these students have much more in common both psycho- logically and sociologically than that interest. The result of this for the organizations is that they must inevitably rely on the few extremely interested members (who immediately become officers) to carry out all but the most attractive and unburden- some duties. When, as occasionally happens for almost every club, there is no one who feels some- what prophetically dedicated to the work of the club, the activity slips into a form of dormancy. Often too, there are prophets with no followers. Then grand undertakings die abortively, meetings are set, announced, publicized, and unattended. But in every organization from the Chemistry Clubs to the literary Revue, periodically there arises a charismatic leader, the efficient administrator, the inspired reformer, who gets things organized and gets things done. That his changes are not perma- nent or significant is unimportant. What is im- portant is that group activity directed at some spe- cific goal incorporating the techniques customary in a particular field and the techniques of organization in general is a valuable adjunct to the collegiate education. And this is accomplished. This implies that although it is true that friendships are not formed in the club-, and although the clubs do have their periods of inertia, the particular role of extra- curricular organizations at Haverford is a good one. It provides a chance to learn how to act in a group. It limits the chance to look at the universe through the narrow aspect of the group ' s activity. It pre- serves the whole Haverford community as the refer- ence group for the student ' s college life. Eighty-eight ■fc The Debating Society The terms in which the reforming leader has been described could be applied to any specific individual with. an reservation, but Sam Bishop ' s place in the Debating Society this year is precisely of that sort. I m years inhabiting Founders and Rockefeller Halls and intermittent studying mellowed the hellion oi our Freshman year. His practicality (and in- dividuality) was expressed by never paying class dues and never attending Meetings, neither of which, he claimed, did him any good. Sam spent his senior year corrupting innocent freshmen un- luckily housed nn the third tier of Founder- and renovating the Debating Society, and Collection Speaker ' s committee. For the first time in our collegiate span the Society won 7 ' r of its debates. Newcomers were coached successfully, an adequate reference room installed in the Reserve Room. The number of debate- and debaters rose by 100%. One T.V. Show- with Bryn M.iwr. nine tournaments and two matches were entered. From M.I.T. to Univer- sity of Maryland. Paul Allen. Henry Horwitz, Allen Joslyn, Don Jackson, and Ed Wolf were the backbone of the team. Whereas debating had been a minor diversion. now it became a major avocation for its participants. A 4. i The Chess Team John Jordan accomplished a similar feat for Haverford ' s Chess team. After a year of insufficient intellectual stimulation at another college, he trans- ferred to Haverford in the autumn of 1952. Two semesters of over stimulation led him to forego the first term of 1953-54, and during the second John transferred his major into the History department. The following year he discovered Wallace Mac- Caffery and was temporarily ehagrinned when MaeCaffery failed to discover him. During that year, he lived with the STA graduate students to whom more than anyone else he feels he owes gratitude for growth in his career at Haverford. Perhaps the explanation of the comparative im- potence of Harverford chess teams in recent years can be found in their admissions policy. It can boast of no five syllables names (e.g. Bondarelevosky) , no facile intellection over fantastically complicated positions in an atmosphere clogged with blue smoke and punctuated by hoarse cries in unintelligible dialects. No speedily declining prodigies or morbidly domineering young men lend grace to its ranks. But normally, with its devastating armies conquer- ing all phases of Haverford life, marches on Chess. The past year witnessed the victory of George Mars- den over Penn and Swarthmore champions. Zuk and Monsky, and of Frank Dietrich over Penn ' s Dinnerstem. These two freshmen are avid enough players to have pushed perennial champion John Jordan down to third board in intercollegiate Eighty-nine matches. Dave Baker, Shenton Monkemeyer, Dick Cohen, Tom Lederer, and Frank Segal all vie for the remaining two positions. All this activity would he impossible without Jordan ' s efficient handling of the club. Arranging matches, supplying books and chess men on the Reserve shelf, tallying records, bickering on behalf of short-changed team members, negotiating with the league, all these are so time-consuming and so unrewarding that only a dynamically interested and effective person could keep the machine in running order. is, outside America, one incessantly simply must wear those bloody dinner jackets! Manned by such gentlemen as Bert, the bridge team could not but be totally successful. This year it was in all its outside meets. Bryn Mawr, Swarth- more, and our Alumni, all were defeated, politely, by the rigorous training that our players endured. The bridge team can, and does, do without a charis- matic leader. That sort of thing, after all, is very poor taste. The Photography Club The Bridge Team The extra-curricular activity of bridge most thor- oughly fits the casual, well living, well bred, gentle- man. Everyone can learn to play bridge. And at Haverford everyone does (except the most eccentric and anti-social characters). At least we can all play poorly. But only the true gentleman, the student wlio lias received at home the tastes for good living, is wise enough to learn the niceties, the finesse, if you will, of America ' s most important parlor game. Maybe every Haverfordian does play club convention, but how many know exactly how many points it implies? For that matter, how many really play contract bridge? It is as much a tribute to his personality as it is to his skill that Bert Shaw vies with Nick Swinton for the title of best bridge player on the Haverford campus. To reach this point of achievement, Bert must always observe a rigid day ' s schedule, reminiscent of the training days on the Track team. Typically, the day starts at noon. After arising and eating, he drives over to the geology (Bryn Mawr) lab to work out for a while among the rocks. Once back in the confused but comfortable Ninth Entry, he copies that morning ' s lecture notes from a coopera- tive classmate. After dinner, he plays bridge, not grinding away, but casually. As he crawls into his unmade bed (servant help on campus is frowned upon), he tries to visualize himself as a producer of something, anything, that everybody needs but no one else makes. Of course he has proved himself as much with women as with bridge. If he applies himself at geology as he does at these extracurricular pursuits, he will someday be a fine companion for a well-bred camel on desert sands. But the trouble The Photography Club, for the moment, was al- most dormant. There were several bugs on campus, but they found little advantage in unity. Conse- quently Tom Carver, for better or worse the recog- nized dean of hypo at Haverford, was the only man who could have set things to right. He chose not to. Tom Carver, Major Domo of Scull House, in the best old-fashioned manner staunchly defends the good life and Middle-West respectability. After stemming the Menon peasant revolt with impressive 16-cycle organ notes booming forth from his impos- ing hi-fi complex, he moved to the fashionable Panmure Road address with a library of records, photographs, and books ranging from The Science of Embalming to Art Treasures of the Louvre. Tom is seen on campus; loaded down with optical para- phernalia, taking a deep breath before capturing the passing scene, precisely tallying points in wrestling matches, or looking for his car and or Sam Bishop. Always he is tailor-fitted and keenly observant. He glories in fine, patined antiques: automotive, archi- tectural, decorative, literary, artistic, musical, mechanical, and social. He also has the last word in electronic noisemakers and photographic widgits. T inety Tom pervades his surroundings with the results of his reconciliation of the Good Old Way with mod- ern realities; he does so with a taste and a singular existence. He can he all things to all men, at certain times. The Nautical Club Sailing is a small sport at Haverford. It has few participants and fewer spectators, but its rabid sup- porters have managed to keep this sport on a high plane. It was Joel Judovich, world wide commodore, who first brought it to the surface. One new area to the world conquered every summer. Traveling incognito by land, sea, or air, Joel usually managed several weird predicaments at each stop. A wounded Arab in Pans — a moonlight night on the Aegean Sea. A photog of some note, and a Lightning sailor of great repute, he may be, but he is most famous as a haunter of foreign consulates, morgues, and attractive women. But then, undoubtedly Joel ' s range of interests is unimaginable. He is usually seen in the process of growing a beard, sitting in collection rummaging in the innards of a stuffed brief case, or zooming across campus on his way to or from . . . His major is English; he likes Political Science even more, and will become a doctor. In the Fall of 1915, however, Joel was so wrapped up in the study of nations or rushing across campus on his way to and from . . . that he left the Nautical Club to the juniors, especially his equally rabid but much more quiet Sanson and Mike. The sailors were faced with a challenging sched- ule, but led by returning skippers Ralph (Where ' s the mark?) Sanson and Mike (Dammit Mezger, move!) Donham, they managed to steal away with two firsts and two seconds over such top competitors as Kings Point, Princeton, the Merchant Marine Academy, and Georgetown. As a result of their success in the fall, the team has been given a big league schedule for the 1956 spring. With returning members Pete Cable, Rich Hill, Erik Mezger, and Bill Tyson, as well as some promising freshmen, the team should continue to prosper. J inetyone Golf The President of Swarthmore once said that he pictured every Harverfordian as arriving in Septenv her with (inly golf clubs and polo sticks in his M.G The M.G. ' s are rare and the polo games implied are non-existent. However, students like Joe Green give the golf an integrated place in our spring sport Partially golf must be, for a biologist, convenient refuge from a hand of chemist roommates. Partially no doubt, it is a diversion from Bottle Washing 81 And something must be done to forget those im possible physics problems! Of course, Joe explored other resorts such as that innocuous den of iniquity Tenth Entry, an occasional date, and thrice weekly movies. Not to mention sleep. But none were as re freshing and vigorous as eighteen holes, especially eighteen victorious holes. K[inetytwo But of course our varsity didn ' t always win. In the spring of 1955 Bill Docherty ' s golfers con frontal .1 stiffer schedule than any previous under- taking. The Fords enjoyed eight victories and suffered five defeats. While the 9 2 and 10-2 results of the two previous years wen much better, the 1955 record was not disappointing, with two credit able performances in bowing to Princeton and Colgate 5 2. Other losses were .it Villanova, Penn, and Lehigh by scores 4 4-5, 3-6, and 1-8 tively. The Fords blanked weak Moravian and LaSalle 9-0 while gaining near shutouts over Temple and Drexel by 8-1, and over Delaware YrVi- Three more victories oi 2 were at the expense of St. Joseph ' s. Lafayette, and Swarthmore. Points were lost to the Garnet tor the first time in several years. Late in the season Captain Grant Morrow. John Allen. Boh Shultz. and Stark Semans represented Haverford for the first time in the Middle Atlantic Golf Tournament .it Mount Union. Pennsylvania. Morrow, with the best individual record for the season, tied for fourth place honors while the four- man team placed second behind Lehigh. In the spring of 1956 the first two positions, vacated by graduating four-year letter men Grant Morrow and John Allen, had to be filled. Never- theless, the situation looked encouraging. To the nucleus of lettermen Bob Shultz. Stark Semans. Joe Green, and Jack Wilentz from last year ' s team were added freshmen Marty Teem and Jack Smith. Reserve strength was improved with the addition of three more freshmen along with two more sopho- mi ires and a junior to complete the squad. Even though seniors will vacate two positions this year, returning lettermen and good reserves make golf prospects hopeful for the near future. The season got underway after heavy spring snow and freezing weather had prevented any practice. The playing order was not definite although it appeared that Marty Teem and Bob Shultz would take over the first two positions. In the middle bracket, Stark Semans moved up to three. Joe Green, Jack Smith, and Jack Wilentz rounded out the team. While this lineup missed the consistently fine golf of Morrow and Allen, a good leadoff combina- tion supported by depth and experience made the team potentially stronger than it was last year. But the schedule ' s competitions promised to be no less challenging. In May another four-man team joined in the Middle Atlantics for a second shot at the regional golf laurels. Schedule Villanova West Chester Temple Drexel LaSalle St. Joseph ' s Delaware Moravian Pennsylvania Lehigh M.A.S.C.G. Lafayette Swarthmore Hinety -three The scone appears bright at Haverford for 1956. In addition to returning lettermen (Virginia Cup winner Phil D ' Arrigo. Carl Getty, David Hensel, Andy Hirss, Bob Pratt, and captain Geoff Steere), Mike Heeg, who has been inactive on the courts since he incurred an injury in his freshman year. is back in action; Mike, with three talented fresh- men, Hans Engelhardt, John Coulthurst, and Bill Fullard. adds considerably to last year ' s strength. As in 195?, the new all-weather Norm Bramall courts have been a great help in giving the team an early start in practice, especially valuable in pre- paring for the pre-season Southern trip, which, this year included matches with the University of Virginia (H - 2, U Va. -7), William and Mary (H ' 6, Wm. M. -?), and the United States Marines at Quantico (H - 5, Marines -4), thus giving the first winning record for a spring trip in the College ' s tennis history. Since the Marines were not kindly disposed to defeat, they hope that they will be able to venture North for a return challenge later in the season. Having established a precedent in pre-season play, the netmen have their fingers crossed in hopes of winning another first, that of an undefeated season, during the regular schedule. Tennis Penn and Swarthmore, our strongest adversaries in recent years and the only ones to defeat us in 1955, are definitely within our shooting range this year, especially with Swarthmore ' s unusually potent 1955 squad weakened through graduation. In con ' tr.ist, Haverford has all its men returning and has added new blood, justifying a healthy optimism. The outstanding qualities of this year ' s team are depth (rather than brilliance) and tenacity. The team has depth in the sense that talent is evenly balanced all along the line-up, which gives us a strong player at each position, far preferable to having extreme brilliance at No. 1 spot balanced by mediocrity at No. 6. Brilliance, however, is not entirely absent with Bobby Pratt ' s hard drives and sharp net shots. T inetyfour Senior Dave Hensel also has .1 crackling fire raging in every game. His brightness is .1 very definite out ' growth of his personality. The smooth handling of the ball is duplicated by the smooth handling of the incessant stream of Bryn Mawrtyrs at his door. His precisely aimed shots are mirrored in his pointed classroom discussions. Even the finesse of his courtly court behavior is symbolized in his scarlet and black woolen scarf, worn over only a polo shirt, flying in the breeze on a campus path. The team also has tenacity, the willingness to be patient and wait the opponent out, holding on at the crucial points. Perhaps the outstanding ex- ample here is Carl Getty, who delights in persisting steadily through a match for as many hours as his opponent chooses to be beaten in. Geoff Steere, the graduating captain, tortures his opponents with this same tenacity. But his grace- fully humble .or conceals u. Geofj i every inch a Quaker, believing in tolerance enough to ii tising it. The 1954 RECORD claimed that hi- : need in tennis was consistency. Two y ears have matured him, and provided that both in tennis and in his religious conviction tli.it people are worth patience. It i these qualities winch pay winning dividends in the level of play which the team fao in its schedule. Coach Norm Bramall has decided that this sea- son he will not hesitate to advise players between games during match play. Certain confusion in college tennis has clouded the issue of the coach ' s role during a match, but since a coach freely confers with his players in Davis Cup play, the only com- pletely intelligent and ethical policy is clearly to follow the pattern of the highest level of world tennis. The team benefits greatly from Norm ' s encouragement and shrewd tactical advice during play. With an encouraging pre-season run and two victories of 9 - against Franklin 6? Marshall and LaSalle, the team is eager for continued success, in ' eluding above all the capture of the all-important point for the Hood Trophy. Nj.nety-fwe Track Alfred W. Haddleton, Pop to thirty-five years of Haverford track squads, began the 1956 season with two new assistants and a host of untried sopho- mores and freshmen. Librarian John Lester coached the pole vault, broad jump, and high jump, while Roger Sorg, holder of the college javelin record. lent his talents to improve this event. The team is managed by Hal Friedman, a con- firmed romanticist forever teetering on the brink of reality hut never quite going over the edge. Sum total of four years of a liberal education-- people are smart animals who thrive on genuine kindness. The captain with Bob Gage, who, of all the engineers, was the most conscientious and thus accomplished the most. Three years a day student, he was an unknown quantity except for his track exploits. This all changed when he burst upon the campus from the mixed atmosphere of Bohemianism and hi-fi which permeated his Scull House trophy room. He soon proved to be a man of many parts, to which his interest in nurses, readiness to goof-off when he had an engine lab to do, and his teaching of a Sunday school class will testify. Gage appeared to be a serious fellow, but on occasion showed a ready imagination and interest in the less finer things in life. Judging by the coaching, the quality of the leadership, and by the 92-1 3 - 33-2 3 victory against Lfrsinus in the first week, the year should be a good one. Forty points a meet graduated last June in the persons of Boh Alvord, Eph Klots, Eric Blanchard, and Bob Lewis, but their places, if not their performances seem to have been filled by a surprisingly well balanced team. J inetysix Middle Atlantic Champion Don Hopkins in the 100 and 220, and Turn Van Arkel in the high jump are seeking to improve last year ' s winning perform ' .iihcs. but .ill other prospective victories will have to conic from l.i t year ' s second men or new comers. Captain Rob Gage takes over the half mile run from Eph Klots with sophomore Dan Parker close behind him. In the 440. Jim Morrison, a freshman, and Chad Squires battle with Gage for the first spot. Larry Schumpert replaces Klots in the mile and along with Myles Johnson, and Dave Nowlis doubles in the two-mile run. Chet Berlin. Blanchard ' s shadow last year in both hurdle events, must improve to beat freshman Hugh Ogden and Don Hopkins. Field events, long the weakest part of the Haver- ford track teams, showed unusual strength this year. Mark Randall adequately replaces the versatile Bob Alvord ' s customary broad jump wins. Andy Green, still another freshman, should be our first man in the pole vault with Bill Harvey right behind him. Boyd Ralph and Eric Harrison, who have both adopted world champion. Parry O ' Brian ' s putting technique, should improve their shot put marks, both already well over forty feet. Last year the team was a surprise fourth m the Middle Atlantic Conference and a strong second in the conference mile relay. We may not have the individual performers to equal this record, but the team has depth to win most of the dual meets. The discrepancy between first and second string records is acute in only a few events and. since the major weight is being carried by freshmen and sophomores, Pop can look forward to several more sessions of winning teams. Ninety -seven Cricket The 1956 cricket season marked the 100th con- secutive year of cricket at Haverford College. First introduced by the English gardener, William Carvill in the 1830 ' s, cricket lapsed for a time after 1840, until it was revived in 1856. For the next few years it was played intramurally on a club basis before the first intercollegiate match was held with the University of Pennsylvania on May 7, 1864. The team had hopes of a successful year, if only to uphold the proud tradition of Haverford cricket in this, the centennial year. Eight lettermen who had gained valuable experience in the rebuilding year of 195 5 when the club compiled a record of two wins, four losses, and five draws, formed the nucleus of a squad that was rich in promise. In addition there was an equal number of men with sufficient cricket experience to make the battle for the first eleven positions an interesting one. The only members of last year ' s eleven to graduate were wicket-keeper Sandy Frey and L955 captain Chandru Malani, low average bowler for the year. Replacing Howard Comfort as the Latin Depart- ment and cricket coach was Arthur Brain, Assistant Headmaster and Director of Studies at Ashbury College in Ottawa, Canada, where he has coached cricket for nineteen years. Professor Comfort, who did such a good job in 1955 with only three return- ing lettermen, was away at the Institute for Ad- vanced Studies at Princeton. The outsider could not but be impressed with how much the cricketers seemed to differ from the par- ticipants of other sports. Whereas most sportsmen seem anxious to emulate lumberjacks, a cricketer -eerned to keep on the field that quiet British gentility that Haverford cultivates. A fine example ot tins was Dave Seavcr who had been long known by the roommates he kept — Council presidents, jazz pianists, honor students, etc. The trouble was they all graduated, so Dave was left to his own devices as a senior. And people discovered that, quite on his own, he could argue with professors, sing bass notes, and catch cricket balls entirely as well as the next boob. Moreover, Dave allowed as to how many of the students he was next to were boobs. This was understandable. Eating dining hall food for six years can make any man dyspeptic. Dave smiled when he got his diploma. That was understandable too. The problem, as always in recent years, was with strength m the lower batting spots and consistent change bowlers. The bulk of the batting attack was carried by Captain Allen Irvine, winner of the prize bat for 1955; Jim Baker and Dick Wagner, who gained the improvement bat a year ago. Jerry Innes, veteran of the 1953 Canadian trip, Dave Seaver, winner of the Haines fielding belt; and Lou Matlack could also be counted on tor some good scores. The bulk of the bowling in 1956 was handled by Irvine and Innes with some help coming from Wagner, Matlack, Paul Haviland and Charley Knight. Others who saw action in what proved to be an interesting season of team and individual changes were seniors John Pfaltz, Charlie Lane. Mike Smith, and Craig MacKown, who combined his ability as a player with a penchant for managing the team. Juniors Harry Thomas and Bill Moss, and sopho- mores John Harkins and Eric Schoonover also stepped in on many occasions to aid the team. h{inety eight In managing, Craig was well assisted by Walter Douglas as en-manager, and between the two, they kept abreast of all the little details which are so essential to the smooth running of a cricket club. Whatever his athletic enthusiasm on the cricket field, off it, Walter Douglas walked among us like a benign shepherd amidst his flock. It was impossible to determine whether that somber face was the mein of a jaded sophisticate bored with our juvenile antics or a serious philosopher coneerned with more im- portant matters. Yet he eondeseended to wear cordovans and kakhis, tweed jackets and oxford shirts. This was the impression of the freshman, but those who know him, liked him because he was un- usually friendly, perceptive, and sensible (e.g. his dissatisfaction with the English Department). The team ' s fielding, long a hallmark of Haverford cricket, was not quite up to the standard of previous years, though it was probably the strongest feature of the overall picture. A new slips cradle helped the close in fielding, and the bowling averages were aided in no small way by the fielding efforts. It was thus possible to anticipate a season con- ducted successfully and within true anglophile Joinery-nine Baseball HaverforcTs 1954 ' 1955 baseball team improved greatly with experience. Although it was a coiv sistently smooth group afield, it often lacked the needed punch at the plate to reverse many close defeats. The high point of the season was a Spring Day 7-1 Hood Trophy victory over Swarthmore College. Although every victory is a team effort, this triumph was sparked by freshman Stu Duff ' s three hit pitching, and, of course, some welcome batting support at the plate. Remnants of winter ' s icy gusts still blew across Haverford ' s Walton field as a record number of candidates reported out for Haverford ' s major spring sport — baseball. Coach Roy Randall had only the job i f strengthening this aggregation, for he wel- comed back all but one of his last year ' s starters. This included Don Cohill and Sel Walton. Sellers had tW( .1111 tools were careers at Havcrford. His lies and bats. The grind % One Him dee J began his engineering career with an offering of taffy to the Holmesain Oracle, which incurred noth ing but threats and cajoli ry concerning lati ness, and the amount of paper required for, and the illegibil- ity of, his homework. Almost .1 fanatic adulator ut sports, Sellers ' enthusiasm and perseverano on the field refused to be impinged upon even by Roy. Oik- day in April he arrived in a beautifully re- stored Ford roadster and launched his campaign against Bryn Mawr on May Day. He then surprised Ins colleagues by his announcement of an intended mcdic.il career; proof indeed that lie was of Good Stock. The future Dr. D. Cohill is the present Capt. Don C, stockholder in Meldrum, Inc. His sterling character is manifest in the reports about him such as, he touched ,1 cigarette — once; once he thought beer was a cereal. His smile that satisfies made him .1 jokester ' s best friend. Even his surprised shouts arc revealing, Oh shoot! Oh golly, we hit a stop sign! But wi vi got a game torn ' ■ ' li re ' Tenth? II frequen with win. h hi ' een in thi locket ro .m ai count foi thi ta kl hi ' made, his title of dummy scrimmage All-An. and the constant flight from maji U I ' agui 1 outs. A li i ol 11. wi omi 1 how ing 1 artii ulai 1 arl) son promise reported lor practice. They included Larry Maud behind the plate, Micky Kabaek and Charlie Pursel in the infield, and Paul Eidcnbcrg and Al Concors in the outfield. With this help, only Tom Martenis at first, Capftain Don Cohill at second base, and Teddy Regan behind thi | lati seemed likely repeaters to start. Stu Dull , Rollii Henderson, Paul Rodewall, and Ed Bradli 5 expected to share most of the hurling duty. Any combination of this year ' s squad was com- pletely expected to provide a stronger punch at the plate, with little loss of the fielding efficiency which helped so much last year. One Hundred One The Varsity Club Picnic SENIORS CL Aofl956 M GEORGE M. ANDERSON; 39 W. Montgomery Ave, Rock- villc. Md.; English; Hews; Alumni Ed. 1; Assoc. Ed. 2; Manag- ing Ed. 3; Class Night 4; Record 4; p. 31. A. RALPH BARLOW, Jr.; 1515 Manor Ave, McKeesport, Pa.; Philosophy; Asst. Basketball Mgr. 1, 2, Head Mgr. Varsity Squad 3; JV Tennis Mgr. 2; Varsity Tennis Mgr. 3; Varsity Club 3, 4; Meeting Coram. 3; Chm. Honor System Comm. 4; Pres. Philosophy Club J, 4; p. 14. W J JOHN K. ARMSTRONG; 8117 Park Crest Drive, Silver Spring, Md.; Political Science; Class Night 1, 2; WHRC 1; Jr. Dance 3; PAA See. 3; IGG 1,2; Current Issues Forum, Chm. 3; JV Football 1, 2; Fencing 1, JV 2, Varsity 3, 4; Track 1; Baseball 2; Cricket 3; p. 47. JOHN S. BARRETT; 510 Jefferson St., Pottsville. Pa.; Ger- man; Class Night 2, 3; Glee Club 1; Nautical Club 1, 2; p. 38. VINCENT S. AVERNA; 505 Holly Rd., Yeadon, Pa.; Psy- chology; Intramural Comm.; Football 1, 3; Basketball 1, 2; Baseball 1, 2; Chm. of Dorm. Comm. 3, 4; Customs Comm. 3, 4; Big Brother Comm. 4; Founders ' Club 4; Head Mgr. Football Team 4; Sr. Class Gift Comm.; Varsity Club 1, 2, 3, 4; p. 84. SAMUEL A. BISHOP; 935 Maltby Rd., Orlando, Fla.; Politi- cal Science; JV Football 1; Sailing Club 2, 4; Drama Club 2, 3, 4; Debating Club 3, 4; WHRC 1, 2, 3; ICG 3; Spanish Club 1 ; Record 4; Collection Speakers Comm. 2, 3, Chm. 4; Sophomore Dance Comm. 2; Sr. Dance Comm. 1; p. 88. JAMES E. BAKER; 5919 Locust St., Philadelphia, Pa.; Political Science; Bridge Club 1, 2, 3, 4; IGG, PAA 1, 2, 3; Soccer 2, 3, 4; Cricket 3, 4; Curriculum Comm. 4; Varsity Club 3, 4; p. 20. HAN VAN MOURIK BROEKMAN; Windmolenweg 20, Boekelo (Or.), Netherlands; Political Science; Varsity Soccer 1, 2, 3, 4; PAA 1, 2, 3, Pres. 4; Cricket 3, 4; Honor System Comm. 3; p. 20. JAMES WINSOR BAKER, Jr.; Colonial Farms, Avondale, Pa.; English; Varsity Club 1, 2, 3. 4; Wrestling 1, 2, 3, 4; Varsity Sailing 3, 4; T ews 2, 3, 4; Record 4; Class Night 1, 2, 3, 4; Glee Club 1, 2, 3, 4; WHRC 3, 4; JV Soccer Capt. 4; Track 1,2; Varsity Football 1, 2, 3; Cheerleader 3,4; Freshman Intro. Comm. 2, 3; Jr. Dance 3; Triangle Soc. 2, 3, 4; New Dorm. Comm. 4; pp. 60, 61. ROBERT P. BROUGHTON; 46 Rocklyn Place, Pittsburgh- Pa.; Philosophy; Track; Cross Country 4; WHRC 2, 3; Debat- ing Club 1, 2, 3, 4; Glee Club 1; PAA 1, 2, 3, 4, Pres. 3; ICG 1, 2, 3, 4; Interclass Wrestling 2; p. 14. One Hundred Six IKI D M BUR] I BACH, IR ; 21 Hamilton Av Cranfoi I N. J.; English; Debating !. 2, 3, 4. Pres. 2; College Thi itn I 2. 3, 4; Intramural Tennis 1. 2. 3, 4. pp. 2s. 29 r PHILIP D ' ARRIGO; 408 S. Sixth St . Vineland, N. J.; Chem- istry; Varsity Football 1. 2. 3, 4; Varsity Basketball I. 2. 3, 4, Capt. 4; Varsity Tennis; Chemistry Club; p. 57. 9 PRAMOTAYA CHANGTRAKUL; 111 Prompongse Rd . Bangapi, Bangkok, T1i.u1.uk1: Philosophy; Intramural Soccer 1; p. 6. JOHN H. DICK; 37 Eleventh Ave.. Haddon Heights, N. J.; English; J ' eu s Subscription Ed. 1, Cire. Mgr. 2, Adv. Mgr. 3. Bus. Mgr. 4; Record Adv. Mgr. 3, Bus. Mgr. 4; Class Night 2, 3. 4; r . 31. STEPHAN CHODOROV; 34 Lanark RJ.. Stamford. Conn; ferman; WHRC 1, 2: Xews 2. 4; Drama Club 2, 4; Debating 1; Revue 2, Co-Editor 4; Jr. Year at Ludwig-Maxillians-Uni- versitat Munchen; p. 32. RICHARD F. DINGE: Warren and Old Lancaster Rds RJ. 1. Malvern. Pa.; Philosophy; Philosophy Club 3. 4. RODNEY H. CLURMAN; 123 Barrett Rd., Lawrence, L. I., N. Y.; English; Drama 4; Class Night 1, 2, 3, 4; p. 70. DAVID FREDERICK DORSEY, JR.; 5 530 W. Thompson St., Philadelphia 31, Pa.; Latin; Record 3, EJ. 4; Revue 1. 2. 3. 4; Chm. 10 O ' Cloek Club 3; Freshman Intro. Comm. 3; I.C.G. 3; p. US. DONALD F. COHILL; 1416 Sunnyhill Lane. Havertown, Pa.; Chemistry; Varsity Baseball 1, 2, 3, 4. Capt. 3, 4; Varsity Club 1. 2, 3, 4; p. 101. WALTER B. DOUGLAS; 3427 Oakwood Terraec. N.W. Washington 10, D. C; English; Currieulum Comm. 3. eir Photographer 3; Photography Club 1. 2, 3, 4: Crieket 1. 2 Asst. Mgr. 3, Co-Mgr. 4; p. 98. One Hundred Seven %? 1 ■■A Jflttl ,M ft n ■ . i; W: JON R. DUNGAN; 44 Willow St., Plymouth, Pa.; Psychology; Dram,! Cluh 2, 3, 4; WHRC 1, 2; Glee Club 1; Psychology Club 4; Nautical Club 1, 2, 3; Wrestling 1, 2; Class Night 2, 3, 4; p. 71. HAROLD M. FRIEDMAN; 24 S. Merion Ave, Bryn Mawr, Pa.; Chemistry; Cross Country 1,2; Mgr. 3; Track, Asst. Mgr. 2, Mgr. 3; Orchestra 1; Hews 3, 4; Curriculum Comm. 4; Chemistry Club 1, 2, 3, 4; Class Night 2, 3, 4; p. 96. FRANKLIN H. DUTTENHOFER; 7224 Hilltop Rd.. Upper Darby, Pa.; Mathematics; p. 82. ROBERT J. GAGE; 5930 N. 11th St., Philadelphia 41, Pa.; Engineering; Cross Country 1, 2, 3, Capt. 4; Winter Track 1, 2, 3, 4; Spring Track 1, 2, 3, 4; Glee Club 4; Founders Club 4; Varsity Club 2, 3, 4; p. 96. GEORGE HAMILTON FETTUS, 3rd. 116 N. Sumner Ave., Margate, N . J.; Chemistry; Track 1; Football 1,2; Wrestling 1, 2, 3. 4; Chemistry Club 3. 4; Class Night 1, 2; Educa. Comm. 4; Glee Club 4; pp. 60, 61. THOMAS HASKELL GARVER; 3501 E. 3rd St.. Duluth. Minn.; Psychology; WHRC 1; Wrestling, Asst. Mgr. 1. Mgr, 2, 3, 4; Hews 1, 2, Photog. Ed. 3; Record 1, 2, 3, 4; Track, Asst. Mgr. 1, 2, 3; Psychology Club 4; Photog. Club 1, 2. Pres 3, 4; Varsity Club 2, 3, 4; Chm. Spring Day Comm. 3; Class Night 4; p. 90. MARK FREEDMAN; 42 3 E. Allen ' s Lane, Philadelphia, Pa.; Chemistry; Chemistry Club; Intramural Athletic Comm. 1, 2, 3, 4; JV Baseball; Varsity Baseball 1; Varsity Club 4; p. 77. GERALD S. GOODMAN; 400 West End Ave., New York, N. Y.; Mathematics; JV Basketball 1, 2. 3, 4; Campus Club 1, 2, 3, 4; p. 70. HARVEY A. FREEMAN; 24 South St., Middlebury, Vt. Geology; p. 50. JOHN H. GOULD; 5 Chemistry; Glee Club Signal Rd., Newport Bea 1; Freshman Intro. Comm. Calif; £S. One Hundred Eight JOSEPH E. GREEN, III; 274 Wilson St., Carlisle, Pa.; Biology; Varsity Club 2, 3, 4; Golf 2, 3, 4; Biology Club L, 2, 3; RECORD 4; p. 93. , £ k DANIEL EVERETT HARRIS; Box 33, Harford, Pa tronomy and Physics; Band and Orchestra 1, 2. 3, 4; Gle 1. 2. 3; Mountaineers 2; Photog. Club 1, 2. 3, 4; Intr Soccer I, 2, 3, 4; p 75. ; As- Club imural ■hfe MARSHALL G. GREENBERG; 4755 N. Aver? Ave. Chicago, 111.; Mathematics and Psychology; Class Night 2; LOG. 2; pp. 28, 29. JOHN R. HAWKINS; 118 Common St., Walpole, Drama Club 1, 2, 3, 4; Sec. 2, Pres. 3; Class Night 1, 2 Glee Club 1, 2, 3, 4; Orchestra 1, 2; p. 70. Mass.; 3, 4; p. ROBERT B. GREER, Students Council 2, 2 Founders ' Club 3, 4; p. [I; RD 1, Renfrew, Pa.; Chemistry; 4, Treas. 3, Education Coram. 3; DAVID B. HENSEL; 5566 15th St., North Arlington 5, Va English; Fencing 2; Tennis Varsity 2, 3, 4; Photog. Club Varsity Club 2, 3, 4; Students ' Council 3; p. 94. WINFIELD S. HALL; 3136 Wisconsin Ave., Berwyn, 111.; Biblical Literature; Sec. of Class of ' 56, 3. WHRC Sec. 3; Pro- gram Dir. 3; Nautical Club 1, 2; WHRC 1, 2, 3, 4; p. 41. HENRY WILLIAM HITZROT; South Compo Rd., Westport, Conn.; Geology; Glee Club 2. 3; Orchestra 1; Drama Club 1, 2, 3, Treas. 4; p. 51. NORMAN GROSSBLATT; 57 Whiteoak Drive, South Orange. N. J.; English; Handbook Ed. 4; Hews Copy Ed. 2, 3; Class Night 1; Drama Club 1; Record 4; Chemistry Club 2, ?; Cosmopolitan Club 3; Spring Day Comm. 2; Intramural Football 1: Tennis 3; p. 43. ANDRIS M. HIRSS; 159 Singleton St., Woonsocket, R. I.; English; Tennis 1, 2, 3, 4; Varsity Club 1, 2, 3, 4; Wrestling; Revue 3; pp. 28, 29. One Hundred Hine T- J J |Wvi w JOSEPH H. S. HOAG; 251 Harrogate Rd., Perm Wynne. Philadelphia 31, Pa.; Geology; JV Soccer 1, 2, 4; Orehcstra 1, 2; Class Night 3, 4; p. 51. OTIS S. JOHNSON, 39 Kirkland St., Cambridge, Mass.; Eeonomies; Glee Club 1, 2, 3, 4; Debating Soc. 1; Class Night 1, 2, 3, 4; Bridge Club 1, 4; JV Soccer 2, 3, 4; WHRC 2; Education Comm. 3; p. 17. JOSEPH L. HORNER; 250 Conway St., Carlisle, Pa.; Physics; Orchestra 1, 2, 3, 4; WHRC 1, Chief Engineer 2, Tech Mgr. 2, 3, Treas. 4; p. 33. RICHARD M. JOHNSON; 714 2nd St., So. Kirkland, Was! Psychology; Fencing 1, 2, 3, Capt. 4; Varsity Club 2. 3. Psychology Club 4; pp. 28, 29. BRUCE JEREMY MAILLAND INNES; 1345 Crofton Rd., Baltimore 12, Md.; Biology; Varsity Club 2, 3, 4; Biology Club 2. 3, 4; Class Night 1. 2. 3, 4; Cheerleader 1, 2, 3, 4; Head Cheerleader 3, 4; Glee Club 3, 4; WHRC 1, 2; Cricket 1, 2, 3, Vice-Capt. 4; Freshman Intro. Comm. 2, 3; Collection Speakers Comm. 4; Record 4; pp. 60, 61. JOHN S. JORDAN, JR.; 5000 Bates Rd., N.E.. Washington 11, D. C; History; Cross Country 3; Track 3; Chess Club 1, Sec. 3, Pres. 2, 4; Curriculum Comm. 3; T ews 1, News Ed. 2, 3, Senior News Ed. 4, Contnb. Ed. 4; p. 89. ROBERT ALLEN IRVINE; 617 Williamson Rd., Bryn Mawr, Pa.; History; Basketball 1, 2, 3, 4; Cricket 2, 3, Capt. 4; Class of 1956 V.P. 3, Pres. 3, 4; Founders Club 3, 4; WHRC 2; Hews Bureau 4; ] [ews 1, 2. 3, Sports Ed. 4; Curriculum Comm. 4; pp. 60 61. JOEL IRVING JUDOVICH; 2006 Delancey Place, Philade phia 3, Pa.; English; Nautical Club 1, 2, 3; Commodore Sec. 2; Mews 2. 3, 4; Varsity Club 2, 3; p. 91. RICHARD ALEXANDER ISAY; 1230 Squirrel Hill Ave., Pittsburgh 17, Pa.; Psychology; Glee Club 1, 2; Curriculum Comm. 2; Honor System Comm. 3; Psychology Club, Pres. 4; p. 85. NORMAN L. KALEN; Apartado 1561 Caracas, Venezuela; Chemistry; Track 1, 2; Spanish Club 1, 2, 3, 4, Pres.; p. 39. One Hundred Ten Ya t?fc - iw CI CIRC] I ' HIM Y; 7111) Luui , Rd Philadelphia 18 Pa Economics; Football 2, J, co-Capt. 4; Varsity Club 2. 4. Pres. 3; iics 2. 3; Students 1 Council Pres. 4; Founders ' Club 3. 4: Baseball 2; Development Fund Comm. 3, 4; p. 10. ERNEST KURKJIAN; L617 Race St., Philadelphia 3, Pa. Si i, iology; Meeting Comm. 3, 4; p. 49. JOHN L. KEMMERER; Residence Park. Palmerton, Pa.; Economics; p. 17. THOMAS J. LADENBURG; 69 Oakland Ave, Yonkers, N. Y.; Psychology; Debating 1, 2. 3; Meeting Comm. 3; 7 Jeu;s 4; Class Treas. 3; JV Football 1; Basketball, JV L; Psychology Club 4: p. 85. JERRY KLINMAN; 302 Calvert Rd., Merion, Pa.; Chemistry; Glee Club 1; Track 1, 2; p. 80. CHARLES BREDE LANE; 120 Kingwood Park, Poughkeepsie, N. Y.; Engineering; JV Soccer 2, 3, 4; Cricket 2. 3, 4; Glee Club 1, 2, 3, 4; Class Night 1, 2, 3; Intramural Athletic Comm. 1, 2. 3, 4; p. 83. STEPHEN B. KNOWLTON JR.; 126 Sharon Ave., Sharon Hill. Pa.; Chemistry; Baseball 1, 2, 3, 4; Parking Comm. 4; Varsity Club 2, 3, 4; p. 80. CRAIG MacKOWN; 40 Robin Rd., West Hartford 7, Conn.; Political Science; Nautical Club 1; Orchestra 1; Glee Club 2, 3, 4: Asst. Mgr. Cricket 3, 4; Development Fund Comm. 3, 4; Phillips Visitors Comm. 4; p. 16. THEODORE G. KUMMER; Fleecy Dale Rd., Carversville, Pa.; English Glee Club 1, 2; Track 1; Baseball 2; p. 42. NEWELL B. MACK; 1115 Oak Way, Madison 5, Wise Biology and Chemistry; p. 14. One Hundred Eleven r I iM GEORGE MALKO: 532 Aldine Ave, Chicago 13, 111.; French; Revue 4; Drama Club 1, 4; WHRC 1. 2; I.C.G. 2. 4; Class Night 1,2,4; French Club 4; Junior Year at the Sorbonne; p. 40. ROBIN SCOTT McDOWELL; 895 Riverton Terrace, Strat- ford, Conn.; Chemistry; Chemistry Club Sec. 4; Collection Speakers Comm. 3, 4; Record 4; p. 78. J ■ ' HAROLD MICHAEL MANN; 126 E. Riverbank, Beverly, N. J.; Economics; Soccer 1. 2, 3, 4; Class Night 1, 2, 3; Educa- tion Comm. 3. 4: WHRC 2; K[ews 3; p. 17. ARTHUR M. McLEAN; 36 Sherman Ave., Dobbs berry. N. Y.; History; Glee Club 1, 2. 3, 4; Spanish Club 3, 4; Cross Country 2, 3, 4; p. 12. J JOHN FUNSTON MARQUARDT; 5830 Stony Island Ave., Chicago 37, 111. Biology; Biology Club 3; Class Night 2, 3; JV Tennis 1. 2, 3, 4; Glee Club 3; Xews 2; Collection Speakers Comm. 4; Education Comm. 4; New Dorm Comm. Chm. 4; Freshman Intro. Comm. 2, 3; pp. 60, 61. JAMES LOWELL McMASTERS; Box 7(io, Havana Cuba; Caixa Postal 4389, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil; Spanish; Glee Club 1, 2, 3, 4; Class Night 2, 3; WHRC 1. 3; Drama Club 2. 3, 4; RECORD 4; International Club 3; Spanish Club 3, 4, Pres. 1, V.P. 2; Alliance Francaise 1; p. 87. THOMAS W. MARTENIS; RFD 4, Elkton, Md.; Chemistry; Football 1, 2, 3, 4; Wrestling 1, 2, 3, Co-Capt. 4; Baseball 1, 2, 3, 4; Varsity Club 1. 2. 3. 4; Chemistry Club; Students ' Council 4; Class of 1956 V.P. 4; p. 55. DONALD C. MEAD; 11 Horseguard Lane. Scarsdale, N. Y. Economics; JV Soccer 2, 3; Customs Comm. 2. 3, 4; Hono System Comm. 4; Class Night 1, 2, 3; Glee Club 1, 2, 3; Socce Mgr. 4; WHRC 1; Service Fund Chm. 3; SCM 4; p. 17. STANLEY L. MAZUREK; 3426 E. Edgemont St., Philadelphia 34. Pa.; Mathematics; JV Basketball 1, 2; p. 82. JOHN H. MIKHAIL; Ramallak - Jordan; Chemistry; Chemis- try Club 1, 2, 3. Pres. 4; Record 4; Class Night 2; News 2; Students ' Council 2; Curriculum Comm. 4; I.C.G. and PAA. 1, 2; International Club 2, 3, Sec. 4; Math Club 1; p. 89. One Hundred Twelve LOUIS H. MILLER; 3817 Menlo Drive, Baltimore, Md; Chcm- istry; Chemistry Club 1. 2, 3, 4: Record 4; Varsity Club 1, 2. 1, 4, Wrestling I. 2, 3, Co-Capt. 4; p. 55. ROBERT FRANKLIN PATT; 8301 Cadwalder Ave. Elkins Park, Pa.; Chemistry; Chemistry Club 3, 4: p. 79. i A EDWARD L. MINNICH, JR.; 44 Conway St., Carlisle, Pa History; Orchestra 1. 2. ?. 4; Glee Club 1. 2. 3, 4: Philosophy Club 3; p. 65. BRUCE F. PEARSON; Old Chalfont Rd., Line Lexington Pa.; French; Soccer 1. 2, 4; Varsity Club 1. 2. 4; French Clut 4; Class Night 1, 2; Junior Year at the Sorbonne; p. 22. WILLIAM L. MOMSEN; Cross River, N. Y.; English; WHRC 1 Technician 1, 2, 3, 4; p. 42. JOHN L. PFALTZ; 10 Windermere Terrace. Short Hi! N. J.; Philosophy; Drama Club 1, 2, 3, 4; Cross Country 1, Cricket 2, 3, 4; Class Night 1, 2. ?. 4; p. 70. RICHARD C. MONROE; 116 Castlewood Rd., Baltimore 10, Md.: Chemistry; Glee Club; JV Fencing; Nautical Club; Jr. Dance Comm. 3; Class Night 3, 4; Class of 1956 Treas. 2; p. 78. THEODORE M. REGAN, JR.; 7001 Andrews Ave.. Philadi phia 35, Pa.; English: Varsity Club 1, 2, 3. 4. Football 1. 3, 4; Baseball 1, 2. 3, 4: Wrestling 2, 3, 4; Education Comn p. 27. . WILLIAM ORTMAN; 6644 Boyer St., Philadelphia 19, i.. Political Science; Football 1, 2, 3, co-Capt. 4; Wrestling 4: Baseball 1.2; Varsity Club 1. 2, 3, 4; Education Comm. 3; FRITZ GUNTHER RENKEN; 1611 Harris Rd., Philade 18, Pa.; History; Drama Club 2, 3, 4; International CIl 3, 4; P . 13. One Hundred Thirteen 4TM 3 W rA PETER MILLARD RENNER; 35 Freemont Drive, Tuscaloosa, Ala.; Sociology; Education Comm. Chm 4; p. 15. ALEXANDER F. SCOTT, JR., 1950 Plymouth St., Philadel- phia 38, Pa.; English; Students ' Council 2, 3; Football 1, 2. 3; Varsity Club 1, 2, 3. 4; Philosophy Club 2, 3; Customs Comm. 2. 3; p. 42. JOHN BERTOLET RHOADS, 101 Paxtang Ave., Harnsburg, Pa.; History; WHRC 1; Mountaineers 4; Sergei Thomas Fund Representative 3. 4: p. 12. DAVID B. S EAVER; 1191 Stanyan St., San Francisco 17. Calif.; English; Glee Club 1, 2, 3, 4; Cricket 3, 4; JV Football 1, 2, 3; p. VS. H. BURTT RICHARDSON, JR.; 131 Pcmngton Ave.. Passaic, N. J.; Biology; Class Night 1,2; Debating 1.2; X[ews 1. Senior Ed. 2, Ed.-in-Chief 3; Education Comm. 4; WHRC 4; p. 30. HAROLD STARK SEMANS: 350 Woodbine Ave., Pei Valley, Narberth, Pa.; Economics; Golf 1, 2, 3, Capt. 4; J Dance Comm. 3; Record 4; Varsity Club 2, 3, Sec. 4; Dan Comm. Chm. 3; Membership and Social Comm. 3; p. 52. CARL ROBERT RUPPENTHAL; 405 Glenway Rd.. Phila. IS, Pa.; Chemistry; JV Fencing 1, 2, 3, 4; Collection Organist 1, 2, 3, 4; Chemistry Club 1, 2, 3, 4; Glee Club 1, 2, 3. 4; Record 4; p. 46. HERBERT WELLER SHAW; 104-31 124th St., Richmond Hill V . L. I., N. Y.; Chemistry; Bridge Club 1, 2, 3. 4; Bridge Team 1. 2. 3. 4; Chemistry Club 2. 3; Class Night 2; Track 1 p. 89. FREDERIC NOEL SCHWENTKER; 209 Tunbridge Rd., Baltimore 12, Md.; Chemistry; Bridge Club 2, 3, 4; I.C.G. 1; Class of 1956 See. 4; Customs Comm. 2, 3, Chm. 4; Baseball Assist. Mgr. 2; Cheerleaders 2, 3, 4; pp. 60, 61. WILLIAM JAMES MARBLE; Okla.; English. 3 West Pierce St., Magnum. One Hundred Fourteen ) JAMES ROBERT SHUSTER; 7018 Oakley St., Philadelphia ll. Pa ; French; Debating 1, 2; 10 O ' Clock Cluh 1, 2; Work camps 1. 2. 4; French Cluh 4: Jr. Year at the Sorbonne; p. 40. - JOHN MICHAEL STEPHENS; 1309 W. 9th St., Wilmington, Del I nglish; Glee Cluh 1; 7 [ews 1; Record 4: Class Night 4; P . 43. STEVEN H, S1EVERTS; 200 Main St., Riverton. N. J.; Political Science; Glee Cluh 1, 2, 3, 4; I.C.G. 1, 2, Chm. 3, 4; Octet 1, 2, 3, 4; Cross Country 1; Hews 1; Drama Cluh 2; Track 2; Education Comm, 3; Students ' Council 3; Collection Speakers Comm. 4; Revue 3. Eel. 4; p. 32. NEIL W. SWINTON, Jr.; 41 Wamesit Rd., Wahan 68, Mass.; Chemistry; Glee Cluh 1, 2, 3, 4, Bridge Cluh 1, 2, 3, Pres. 4; Freshman Intro. Comm. 1, 2; Chemistry Cluh 2, 4-. Class Night 2, 3; JV Football 1,3; JV Tennis 3; New Dorm Comm. 4; Customs Comm. 4: pp. 60, 61. MICHAEL ELLIOT SMITH; 246 Western Ave., Gloucester, Mass.; History and Political Science; Customs Comm. 2; Stu- dents ' Council 2, 3; Honor System Comm. 2, 3; Curriculum Comm. Chm. 3; Education Comm. 4; AJeie.s 4; Glee Cluh 1, 2; Orchestra 3; Drama Club 4; JV Football 1; Cricket 1, 2, 3; ( lass Night 1, 2, 3; Chm. Commencement Speakers Comm. 4; Bridge 1, 2: p. 12. JOHN W. THOMAS; RD 1, Ringoes, N. J.; Political Science; Football 1, 2, 3, 4; Basketball 1, 2; Varsity Club 1, 2, 3, 4, Pres. 4; Customs Comm. 2, 3, 4; P.A.A. 1, 2, 4, Pres. 3; Campus Day Comm. 3; Class Night 3. 4; Drama Club 1,2; Baseball 3; p. 52. I GUY GIL SOTOMAYOR; 2 South Drive, Roslyn, N. Y. Spanish; Spanish Club 1, 2, 3, 4; Nautical Club Soccer 1, 2; p. V). In! r.uniii . ROBERT K. TOGASAKI; 1848 Buchanan St.. San Fr Calif.; Chemistry; AJeit ' .s 2, 3, 4; International Cluh ' . Chemistry Club 3, 4; p. 77. GEOFFREY H, STEERE; 321 Wayne Ave., Waynesboro, Va.; English; Tennis 1, 2, 3, Capt. 4; Meeting Comm. Chm. 3; Edu- cation Comm 3, 4; p. 94. ROBERT R. TRAUT; 747 Santa Clara, Claremont, Calif.; Chemistry; Band and Orchesra 1, 2, 3; Jiews 1; Chemistry Club 1, 2, 3, 4; p. 77. One Hundred Fifteen At AMES LOGAN VINEY; QTRS. 58 Fort Bragg, N. C; Spanish; Spanish Club 1. 2. 3, 4; WHRC; Class Night 1, 2, 3, 4; lECORD 4; Curriculum Comm. 3, 4; p. 39. WILLIAM WHITE, JR.; 621 Villa Rd., Drexel Hi Biology; Biology Club 2, 3. Treas. 4; p. SI. ROBERT P. WALLACE; 123 Lawrence Ave., Homestead Park. Pa.; Psychology; Glee Club 1; Hews 1; Fencing 1; Psy- chology Club 4; p. 85. DANIEL ALEXANDER WIELAND, JR.; Spring Lane. Roxborough, Philadelphia 28, Pa.; English; Class Night 1, 2, 3, 4; Freshman Intro. Comm. 2. 3; Mountaineers 1. 2; JV Football 1, 2, 3, 4; 10 O ' Clock Club 4; Dance Comm. 1, 2; Record 4; p. 86. DAVID SELLERS WALTON; 309 S. 21st St.. Brigantme. N. J.; Engineering; JV Football 1. 2, 3, 4; Class Night 3. 4; Varsity Baseball 1, 2, 3. 4; Orchestra 1; JV Basketball 1.2; p. 100. GERALD S. WITHERSPOON; 175 Alton Rd., Galloway, O.; Philosophy: Philosophy Club 1, 2, 3, 4; Students ' Council Sec. 3; Honor System Comm. 2; Curriculum Comm. 3, Chm. 4; Freshman Intro. Comm. 2; Dissent Forum 4; Class Ni ht 3: Class of 1956 Treas. 1; p. 14. HAROLD DODSON WEAVER, JR.; Delaware State College, Dover, Del.; Sociology; Football 1. 2, 3, 4; Varsity Club 1, 2, 3, 4; Track 1. 2, 3. 4; Basketball, JV 1. 2, Varsity 3; Customs Comm. 2; P.A.A. 1. 2. 3; LOG. 2; Class of 1956 Pres. 1, V.P. 2; Freshman Intro. Comm. 2, 3; Students ' Council 1; p. 26. LEWIS R. WOODHAM; 181 Pasadena PI., Hawthorne. N. J Psychology; WHRC 1, 2, 3, 4; Chemistry Club 1, 2, 3, 4 Psychology Club 3, 4; RECORD 3, 4; Fencing 1, 2. 3, 4; Cheei leaders 3, 4; Intramural Soccer 1. 2. 3, 4; Freshman Intri Comm. 2, 4; p. 33. COURTLAND Y. WHITE; Rebel Fo English; JV Football 1; Track 1, 2; p. 43. Pa. LAMAR deBENNEVILLE WOZNICKI; 318 E. Meehan Ave., Philadelphia 19, Pa.; Spanish; Soccer 1, 2, 3, Co-Capt. 4; Varsity Club 1, 2, 3, 4; Spanish Club 3, 4; Track 3; p. 20. One Hundred Sixteen JOSEPH J. ZAMRA REEVES: Fastville Ysd. Basson Count; Mm, ro vi, i. Liberia, West Africa; Chemistry; Curriculum Com- mittee 3; Track 2; [nternational Club 3, 4; p. 59. Index Administration  Astronomy 75 Baseball 100 Basketball 56 Biblical Literature 41 Biology 81 Bridge 90 Bryn Mawr 50 Chemistry 76 Chess 89 Class Night 66 Collection 46 Cneket 98 Cross Country 23 Debating Society 88 Dormitory Life 60 Drama 68 Economics 16 Engineering 83 English 42 Excerpts From 62 Fencing 53 Football 24 French 40 Freshman Class 7 German 38 Golf 92 Graduates 18 Greek 41 History 12 Junior Class 73 Latin 41 Library 59 Masthead H8 Mathematics 82 Meeting 49 Music Glee Club 64 Octet 64 Orchestra 64 Nautical Club 91 Hews, The 30 Non-academic Courses 86 Philips Visitors 47 Philosophy 13 Photography 90 Physics 74 Political Science 15 Psychology 84 Returning to School 6 Revue, The 32 Seniors 10- 1 Soccer 19 Sociology 15 Sophomore Class 34 Spanish 39 S.T.A. Students 18 Students ' Council 10 Committees H Swarthmore Weekend 28 Tennis 94 Town, Haverford 87 Track 96 Vacations 36 Varsity Club 52 WHRC 33 Wrestling 54 One Hundred Seventeen The 1956 Record After this page is written, the yearbook for 1956 is finished. Proofreading remains, but really it is finished. All the mistakes except those typographic are irreparable. There is no more that traumatic and vain concern over past deadlines. There can be no more joy over phrases not so trite as the rest, over senior write-ups more perceptive than the usual. Now I can thank everyone. The big headache of money, Jack Dick suffered. He started to suffer quite late, but he supplied all that was needed. His main help came from Al Gold (circulation manager) and Ed Thorpe. John Rhoads, John Mikhail, Burt Friedman, and Joe Green all worked substantially. Neil Plass was advertising manager. There were many who wrote articles, a few of them on time. Don Mead, Mike Heeg, Stark Semans, and Lew Woodham were conveniently punctual. Ted Regan, Andy Hirss, Rich Johnson, Jonathan Gallant, Bob Ruppenthal, Gerald Goodman, Mike Smith, Hal Friedman, Ralph Sanson, Sel Walton, J. W. Baker, John Hawkins, Dan Harris, Joe Horner, Steph Chodorov, Al Irvine, Erny Kirkjian, the men in 103-104 Leeds, Geoff Steere, John Jordan, George Hurchalla, all wrote varying amounts of the text. Unfortunately, no one will heed me when I say that without many of these writers, publication would have been impossible. But to say anything less is too great a compromise of the truth. For editorial policy, for rewriting, for textual criticism, George Anderson and Mike Stephens were very helpful. George also wrote some articles. Michael also under- took the most grueling job of his lower-upper-class life, proofreading. (Incidentally, if you ' re not quite sure, his write-up under English is a joke.) As a glance at the book will make obvious, photographs were the Gordian knot this year. Like Alexander, I simply cut it away. I had to authorize and use hack work which usually came in frighteningly late. However, this does not do credit to Jim Viney who, as soon as he learned that a photographer was needed, offered his services, arranged for himself his assignments, and took the pictures with as much dispatch as possible. Sam Bishop and Dave Rosenbaum both came to my attention very late in the year, but with a minimum of fiddling took pictures. Lou Miller helped immensely by doing the necessary fiddling. Hal Kurzman, who was working for the Ts[ews, offered the Record several pictures which we could never have done without. The winter sports were covered by Peter Wolff. Doc Harter did several squad pictures. Sandy Wieland did the fine cover and art work. But the main burden of developing, printing, and editing, was on the shoulders of Tom Garver and Dave Fuller. LIsually the great inconvenience and toil they went through for the Record was more obvious in their words than in their results. Never- theless, without that toil and inconvenience the whole book would have been a much greater fiasco. Except for sports, most of the really interesting pictures were taken by Tom. The result which you have just been reading, the 1956 Record, is a compromise. It is a compromise between a completely patterned actual book, which I would have desired, and a split up collection of pointless essays about people and events. But much more, it is a compromise between prohibitively time-consuming good writing and the typical jargon of collegiate annuals. Yet compromise is always preferable to capitulation. It has been better to create a vague Haverford panorama than to create nothing at all. At any rate, wittingly to do the latter was not open to me. No one could be more distressed than I at how imperfect a panorama it is. But it was right to try. That is the point of this page in preference to a conventional mast- head — which would be in such better taste. Any future editor who decides that year- books need not be entirely useless can be forewarned and, I think, encouraged by my example. He will not have time to satisfy his literary standards. He will be distressed at every turn by administrative difficulties. But there will be no end of capable, willing and anxious, and interested students ready to help him. He had better know better than I how to use their help. One Hundred Eighteen PATRONS Mr. and Mrs. H.irry M. Abramson Mr. and Mrs. Paul R. Alle n Mr. and Mrs. Thomas M. Anderson Mr. and Mrs. James W. Raker Mr. and Mrs. P. H. Baker Mr. and Mrs. A. R. Barlow Mr. and Mrs. John F. Barrett Mr. and Mrs. Chester M. Berlin Mr. and Mrs. Philip S. Broughton Mr. and Mrs. Alfred E. Buek Dr. and Mrs. Paul C. Bucy Mr. and Mrs. William A. Challener. Jr. Mr. and Mrs. Samuel Charlson Mr. and Mrs. Richard E. Clemson Mr. and Mrs. Robert T. Colhurn Mr. and Mrs. David M. Cooper Mr. and Mrs. L. J. Coulthurst Mr. Raymond Curtis Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell Dane Mr. and Mrs. Robert L. Densford Mr. and Mrs. John Dick Mr. and Mrs. Francis P. Douglas Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Ellison Mr. and Mrs. George H. Fettus Mrs. L. K. Freedman Mrs. Frances B. Friedman Dr. Horace W. Gage, Jr. Dr. and Mrs. Wilmer K. Gallager Mr. and Mrs. Harvie A. Garver Mr. and Mrs. Bruce M. Gelser Dr. and Mrs. Julius H. Goodman Mr. and Mrs. Richard K. Gould Mr. and Mrs. John D. Gresimer Mr. and Mrs. Irvin J. Gruber Dr. and Mrs. Albert W. Hall Mr. and Mrs. John N. Hart Mr. and Mrs. Thomas B. Harvey Mr. and Mrs. E. Courtland H. Hoppin Mr. and Mrs. J. M. Horner Mr. and Mrs. John Irvine Mrs. Milton Isay Mrs. C. T. Johnson Dr. and Mrs. Bernard Judovich Mr. and Mrs. Wylie Kilpatnck Dr. and Mrs. Harry C. Knight Dr. and Mrs. Stanley R. Lenfest Prof, and Mrs. Julian Ellis Mack Mr. an Mrs. Wayne MacKown Mr. and Mrs. Otto P. Mann Dr. and Mrs. Gilbert H. Marquardt Mr. and Mrs. Fred Maud Mr. and Mrs. Stanley L. Mazurck Mr. Price Clarke Meade Mr. and Mrs. Cloy M. Miller Mr. and Mrs. David Miller Mr. and Mrs. Richard P. Momsen Mr. and Mrs. H. N. M. Monkemeyer Mr. and Mrs. Harry C. Monroe Mr. and Mrs. J. Howard Morris, Jr. Mr. and Mrs. Victor J. Moyes Mr. and Mrs. Phillip P. Nolte Rev. and Mrs. Evan C. Pedrick Mr. and Mrs. Hugo M. Pfaltz Mr. and Mrs. Harry Phillips Mr. and Mrs. Robert P. Porter Mr. and Mrs. J. Russell Price Mr. and Mrs. Paul H. Rhoads Mr. and Mrs. Henry B. Richardson Mr. and Mrs. Carl R. Ruppenthal Mr. and Mrs. Ralph D. Schear Mr. and Mrs. Edwin W. Seams Mr. and Mrs. Phillip Shaw Mr. and Mrs. Louis A. Shultz Mr. Peter Smith Mr. and Mrs. Willard P. Steward Mr. and Mrs. Arthur G. Stone Dr. and Mrs. Neil W. Swinton Dr. and Mrs. M. V. B. Teem Mr. and Mrs. C. Howard Thomas Dr. and Mrs. Henry M. Thomas, Jr. Dr. and Mrs. Russell Tilley Brig. Gen. and Mrs. Alvin G. Viney Mr. and Mrs. George V. Wallace, Jr. Mr. and Mrs. Paul A. Wallace Mr. and Mrs. Staley A. Weidman Mr. and Mrs. Wm. Nelson West, 3rd Mr. and Mrs. D. Alexander Wieland Dr. and Mrs. William C. Wilentz Mr. and Mrs. George Woznicki A Friend One Hundred A[ineteen HADLEY FALLS TRUST COMPANY Holyoke, Massachusetts Main Office Maple Suffolk Streets, Holyoke Branch Offices Race Main Streets, Holyoke Shopping Center, Holyoke 124 Cabot Street, Chicopee 66 Main Street, Chicopee Falls Facility Westover Field Member of Federal Reserve System Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation One Hundred Twenty Compliments to the Class of 1956 J. E. CALDWELL CO. HAVERFORD HOTEL Jewelers - Silversmiths - Stationers A Knott Hotel Gold and Silver Jewelry Haverford, Po. Montgomery Ave. Engagement and Wedding Rings Ml 2-0947 Gray ' s Lane Watches ■ Leather ■ Stationery Insignia ■ Trophies Awards Newly Decorated Attractive Giftware from this country and abroad DINING-ROOM COCKTAIL LOUNGE Chestnut Juniper Streets AIR CONDITIONED Philadelphia 7, Pennsylvania Excellent Banquet Facilities for 20 Station Road, Haverford, Pennsylvania Meetings, Dinner-Parties, Dances Wedding -Receptions Hotel duPont, Wilmington, Delaware Transient Permanent Accommodations MASSEY, BROWN SHORE HAVERFORD TOY SHOP MAIN LINE REAL ESTATE TOYS - BICYCLES - CARRIAGES PLAYGROUND EQUIPMENT 567 Lancaster Avenue Haverford, Pa. 562 W. Lancaster Ave. Haverford, Pa. LAwrence 5-3400 LAwrence 5-1624 PENN BODY COMPANY, Inc. LAwrence 5-4526 Body Repairs - Mechanical Service - Painting THOMAS J. LANNON Seat Covers - Tops - Fromes Straightened 1025 Lancaster Avenue 574 Lancaster Ave. Bryn Mawr, Pa. Bryn Mawr, Pa. Picture Framing LAwrence 5-2574 Midway 2-2570 Prints Pointings Cleaned ond Restored Fine Arts Reproductions Mirrors Resilvered One Hundred Twenty-one THE COUNTRY BOOKSHOP Bryn Mawr Avenue Bryn Mawr, Pa. LA 5-2218 WM. P. KRUGLER OPTICIAN 841 Lancaster Avenue Bryn Mawr, Pa. (Formerly in Bank Building) HAVERFORD SPORT MOTOR, Inc. Complete Auto Rebuilding of Foreign Manufacture British and German Factory Trained Mechanics Racing Engine Specialists 519 W. Lancaster Ave. LAwrence 5-7330 Haverford, Pa. LA 5-1654 BRYN MAWR SERVICE BUREAU DUPLICATING 830 Lancaster Avenue Bryn Mawr, Pa. Mimeographing Photo Offset Multigraphing Typing BLU COMET DINER Bryn Mawr, Pa. LAwrence 5-9206 TOD ' S SHOE SERVICE 592 Lancaster Ave. Bryn Mawr, Pa. Polishes Laces GALLIGAN BROS. REGISTERED PLUMBER 872 Lancaster Avenue Bryn Mawr, Pa. 24 HOUR SERVICE WE 4-0918 LA 5-0822 One Hundred Twenty-two 1 The Plumbers Supply Company Phone: Midway 2-0359 535 Lancaster Avenue, Haverford, Pa. LAwrence 5-0864 and Midway 9-1570 HAVERFORD TAXI SERVICE • Custom Kitchens • Heating Penna. R.R. Station • Bathrooms • Plumbing • Electrical Appliances • Pumps • Gas and Electric Stoves • Roofing HAVERFORD, PA. lOpen en Thursday Evenings! Our llltk IJear McCLEES GALLERIES Paintings Cleaned, Restored, Rebuilding, Framing, Refitting, Mirrors 42 E. Lascaster Ave. Midway 2-1661 Ardmore FAIRLAWN MARKET HAVERFORD HARDWARE 16 Station Road, Haverford, Pa. HAVERFORD SQUARE CHOICE MEATS - FANCY GROCERIES HAVERFORD, PA. SEA FOOD - FRUIT b VEGETABLES Midway 2-3777 Free Delivery Phone Ml 2-901 1-12-13 james j. McCaffrey CAMP ' S PHARMACY Jewier (Opposite Haverford Station) 24-HOUR PRESCRIPTION SERVICE HAVERFORD SQUARE Haverford, Pa. Haverford, Pa. Midway 2-3055 Free Delivery Midway 2-7767 One Hundred Tiventx-three HAVERTOWN PRINTING COMPANY HAVERTOWN, PENNSYLVANIA Good Printing At No Additional Cost At Our New Address 2138 Darby Road Telephone: Hilltop 6-4500 SHerwood 7-8633 • Member Printing Industries of Philadelphia Everything in Paints and Art Supplies BUTEN ' S PAINT STORES 809 LANCASTER AVENUE LAwrence 5-3610 BRYN MAWR We Deliver TOWN AND COUNTRY RESTAURANT Suburban Square Ardmore Luncheon, Cocktails, Dinner CASPER BONGIOVANNI SON INC. Quality Plastering and Stucco Since 1906 205 Cricket Avenue Ardmore, Pa. Phones: Midway 2-0547 ond SWorthmore 6-4297 SHERWIN-WILLIAMS CO. 9 East Lancaster Avenue Ardmore, Pennsylvania LYONS HARDWARE Lyons-Wright-Tyndale-Van Roden, Inc. 2 STORES 107 Coulter Ave. Ml. 2-5750 26 W. Lancaster Ave. Ml. 2-5545 Hardware-House Furnishings-Point One Hundred Twenty-fi CONGRATULATIONS AND BEST WISHES TO THE GRADUATES FROM THE MERIN STUDIOS Official Photographers to the 1956 RECORD All Portraits Appearing in this Publication have been placed on File in our Studio and can be duplicated at any time. WRITE OR PHONE US FOR INFORMATION. 1010 Ches tnut Street, Philadelphia 7, Penna. WAInut 3-0146 or WAInut 3-0147 One Hundred Twentyfii One Hundred Twenty-six McCLOSKEY CO Builders 0,0 1620 Thompson Street Philadelphia One Hundred Twenty seven Popular Prices Table - Floor - Student Lamps and Lamp Shades bon voyage KODY ' S A to Main Line Shopping Center Wynnewood, Pa. Sf SHt the class of 1956! KEYSTONE Abbotts Dairies CANDY TOBACCO COMPANY ICE CREAM DIVISION 354 West Lancaster Ave. Lombard at Th rd Street Wayne, Pa. Philadelphia 47, Pa. I lullumst iam dictum quod non dictum sit prius. Terentius Africanus