Haverford College - Record Yearbook (Haverford, PA)

Text from Pages 1 - 178 of the 1963 volume:

recard 63 [T ! J - r N V W C A u I Scott Gillam Editor-In-Chief Putnam Barber Managing Editor Art Director Terry Belanger David Hunt John Major Associate Editors John Heuss Business Manager William D. Y. Rich Griffith Smith Harold Walker Photographers - v M ■ A V r A ■ M 4j iv ' j Yearbooks, like old violins or postage stamps, generally increase in value as the years go by, or so we ' d like to believe. This much is sure: yearbooks have next to no value until they are published; everybody eventually seems to want one, but hardly anybody wants to work at producing it. Having accepted these facts of life, this year ' s staff, after the usual procrastinations, resigned itself to producing for posterity. The results of our labors will probably seem hopelessly quaint fifty years from now. how- ever vital and serious the issues and events reported here appear to us today. But that is no matter. Yearbooks are by definition timebound and transient. If we have caught for a moment and held some of what was Haverford College 1963 in such a way that fifty years from now, this moment leaps to some life, however quaint by comparison, we will be happy. Some of the articles in the following pages are more subjective than those usually found in yearbooks (Credits for such articles are on page 174). They simply came out that way, and since ultimately the opinions expressed are borne out of love rather than malice it seemed silly to change them. If you disagree, there is always the News. Here ' s the Record. We hope you like it. As you wilt see jrom the Table of Contents, the 1963 Record is arranged pretty conventionally — however, there are no captions under the pictures. Captions will be found, instead, beginning on page 168. € €0nients DEDICATION 6 366 WEST LANCASTER AVENUE 7 EDITORIAL 13 ADMINISTRATION 14 FACULTY 24 SENIORS 48 CLASSES 86 CLASS HISTORY 94 ACTIVITIES 98 CLASS NIGHT 132 SPORTS 136 SENIOR DIRECTORY 1S4 CAPTIONS 168 STAFF 174 • ' -- Virsmia Kline Yes, Santa Glaus, there is a Virginia. Laboring long after hours in her Robeils Hall workshop, using those dull and tedious tools, the transcript and the course card, Haverford ' s new assistant registrar neverthe- less maintains an admirable mien and a re- markable interest in the people behind all those papers. Her handling of final exam distribution and collection under the new system was a model of efficiency, and her memory of the numerical results of those exams was accurate, sometimes embarrass- ingly so. It is with a sense of grateful appre- ciation for a task well done that the 1963 Record is dedicated to Virginia Kline. Page 6 ! •• ,7 r • vr A--4 m .■?•- ' ' . ■ r . ll 366 West Lancaster Avenue Haverford, Pennsylvania One of the more obvious things that lingers on after a Haverford ed- ucation is the place itself, and more intangibly what I call the spirit of the place. Those of us who developed while here the bad habit of shuf- fling automaton-like from dormitory to dining room to library and back again may not know what I am talking about. It is simply the beauty of the campus, in all its nooks and crannies, many of which were virtually ignored by most of the student body. All too often the only people even to encounter the beauty of the nature walk and the duck pond, for ex- ample, were the cross country runners. The campus had a personality of its own which was perhaps best un- derstood by those who knew where to look for it and who had not become inured to its attraction through pressing familiarity. Often the fresh eyes of a visitor to Haverford were the most observant. C. P. Snow caught something of the campus ' vital character. In a recent Record he described it as one of the most visually attractive anywhere; like a Rowlandson Page 8 landscape, with just a framework of formal elegance under its easiness. Sir Charles ' discerning ' contrast between the formal and the easy may be extended to describe our whole life here, with the campus and its en- virons as a metaphor for our existence. In its easy aspect, the campus is arcadian, idyllic, unreal at times. On a fine spring day it seemed to exude an intoxicating liquor all its own, at night a heady, dark brew of quiet delight. But these things ended all too abruptly when one was thrust back into the more formal rigor of study. Our life here was a perpetual round of sensation and analysis, communion and isolation, reflection and politic regurgitation, and the spirit of the campus itself reflected these cycles, enticing us, inspiring us, always pervading us. The library carrel and the Union coop represented perhaps the purest examples of these formal and easy aspects of campus life. One was the epitome of solitude, the other the height of socialization. Both could be carried to an extreme, both could be used as escapes. Yet both seemed es- sential, both seemed to fill real needs, whether they were real deficien- cies of knowledge or alleged deficiencies of the dining room. In most cases, however, the opposing aspects of formality and easi- ness were found close together, curiously re-enforcing but at the same time competing with each other. The Haverford library proper, for ex- ample, as every junior college miss and Lower Merion coed knew, was not only a handy place to read but also an ideal place to pick up boys. In this subtle game between study and sex there were certain informal rules, all designed to insure the triumph of the latter. What you were reading, for instance, was extremely important. Obviously John Updike ' s latest was going to be a better come-on than George Eliot ' s earliest and stuffiest. But in either case the results remained pretty predictable in this coy version of an old and elemental. struggle. On the other side of the net, the game progressed in intensity, and the stakes grew higher and higher. It was inevitable that the contest should extend beyond the periphery of the campus. The pursuit of knowledge seemed to know no bounds. The search assumed the aspect of a biblical quest. The Genesis has been our culpa (fortunate or unfortunate, it did- n ' t seem to matter which), but Exodus was promises. Having dimly heard of another fortress of the intellect in the near distance, we set out con- fidently on a pilgrimage to Bryn Mawr, that promising land of milk and honey, the fertile crescent of beauty and brains. Along the way, however, the Main line demi-monde presented its own array of temptations to the weak-willed traveler. PennFruit was a Van- ity Fair whose artificial displays gleamed out of the wasteland like a mi- Page 10 t - rage, luring- us on by hidden persuasion to a deadend aisle of satiety. The Comet was an oasis, intimate and agreeable by contrast, but reached only after much delay. How often we slipped into that veritable Slough of De- spond, Tenth Entry. Ah, Tenth! Here we wasted away many a night and days, darting from dark despair to infinite possibility, writing on the waters of our hopes a love-hate letter to the world. It was all so happy and so fu- tile. When we finally arrived at the gates of Bryn Mawr after that some- what jejune journey, even if the place wasn ' t all that it had been cracked up to be, our facile imaginations quickly made it so, and that last unsullied Page 11 bastion of truth and beauty, imagined or otherwise, fell forever before our eyes. It was all too easy to get invited to Circe ' s Coffee Hour, The only problem, some of us found, was how to get out. And so we bought a ticket for a train headed nowhere in particular, per- haps back to Haverford or some nlace like it, perhaps to one of the places along the way. And as we stood on the platform, waiting for the train that would take us to our destination, wondering whether it had all been worthwhile, we suddenly realized that somehow it couldn ' t have hap- pened otherwise. Mysterious and inexorable forces outside and inside us — effected ultimately in those curiously feuding formal and easy elements of life — those forces had reacted together and shaped us. And in this pro- cess Haverford has acted as a kind of catalyst — causing and accelerating that reaction in us without being permanently affected itself. After we have gone, the spirit ' f the place will live on relentlessly as before. But having caught a part of that spirit, we came to realize dur- ing four short years not only our possibilities, but our limitations and ca- pacities — our place in the sun. AN EDITORIAL :. ' ■;■. ■ - ■ ' ...■• .i- . - l: = ifiw ' 3 - ! The nebula Haverford revolves around a still snnali point — the fact that it ' s a College. And often that still small point gets obscured in the midst of the burning, rushing peripheral stars. But lest anyone forget, each of us has been here not only because Haverford offers courses in the various branches of Higher Education, but also for those classes. Each member of the Faculty brings his own presup- positions about the meaning of the words Intellectual Community to his office and classroom with him. Each student has his own half-formed and forming ideas about the same question. Though the differences be- tween the groups, and between the individuals, often appear as chasms, a remarkable feature of the College is the broad area of basic agreement. As in many things the members of the Haverford Community have here agreed to disagree — but the area of dis- agreement is relatively small. Such agreement is a sound foundation for success — a success in which each of us — faculty, student, and administration — has had his part. But it also means that basic assumptions seldom get challenged. It seems sometimes as though we are all too willing to take arms for distant causes, to fight for fleeting victories, and unwilling to admit even as much as a question to the ordering of the very center. Perhaps this reluctancTe exists because those things which are close seem complicated, and those which are distant simple. But more probably it ' s because the sta- bility at the center is the precondition for other con- cerns, which somehow seem more pressing. And the concentration on the peripheral is more serious at Hav- erford than at other Colleges (at least we like to think so) — civil rights is a more worthwhile form of inter- collegiate competition than football. Perhaps therefore it is more serious in the negative sense; it is harder for us to remind ourselves that we are not in College for barber shop and ban-the-bomb pickets than it would be for us to remember that we are not in College for football. It is one of the theme of this yearbook that the balance between all sorts of extra-curricular activities and the curriculum Itself Is being upset In favor of the academic. We feel that the balance is crucial — that extra-cu rricular activities are important to the growth of Haverford men. But we do not wish to seem to for- get that extra-curricular activities are extra — that year- books and newspapers and touch football are possible In any community. Education is possible only in very limited kinds of communities — like Haverford College. Page 13 administration I .t is a compelling problem for colleges that the men who are most concerned with the long-term management of the college are least concerned in the daily life of the community they direct. These men are the Board of Trus- tees (or, as Haverford quixotically insists on referring to them, the Board of Managers). Although Boards try to overcome this problem in a variety of ways, by far the most important link between the Board and the on-going community they have in trust is the college ' s administration. P. aul Goodman ' s impressive frustrations seem to me to be a relatively minimal cause for concern at Haverford. But this is not to say that Haverford ' s administration does- n ' t face difficulties in its double role of policy making and solving day-to-day problems — nor that it always performs perfectly on either stage. Part of the reason for its failures is, of course, in- herent in the peculiar kind of translation it has to do — the words the Board uses are the same words the faculty uses, and the same words the students and alumni use, but these words often mean quite different things coming from different mouths. The administration must try to make sure that all these different meanings are close enough together to permit the word community to mean any- thing at all. I, .t is perhaps well to remember that the on e interest group in our strange community that doesn ' t have any real vote is the student body. We could, of course, riot, or be abusive, or even walk out — but the sanctions that can be imposed make such action costly, and unlikely. In this day and age, also, there ' s no danger of the college not attracting to this jaundiced generation. To a degree this contrast may well be a product of growing irreverence on our part and the glowing mists of time on the alumni ' s. Nevertheless, Mac has taken less part recently in the life of the students. It might be well to sit back for a moment and examine the man who is now President of the College. E, irst of all. President Borton is a respected and recognized scholar in his field. Second, he is always carefully honest. And third, he takes his job seriously. In spite of these and otlier admirable characteristics. President Borton ' s public speeches are painful both to him and to his audiences. The students ' attitude is all to aptly summed up by the sobriquet Huge Boredom . Part of the reason for this attitude is tliat the very qualities of the President that fit him for running a complex community — caution, tentativeness, looking at all sides of the question — do not make the most interesting listening. But more important is something I ' d call stage presence (Does he have to say Collection is adjourned to the rapidly departing backs of the student body?). T. .he really central reason for the students ' attitude is more involved though. There is something painfully misconceived about President Borton ' s Collection and Meeting speeches — the one thing we have learned to mistrust as a group is the edifying lecture. Ad- mittedly, Haverford Meeting as it is presently used by stu- dents on t he the average Fifth Day throws a weak light on his attempts. But wherever the ultimate responsibility for the failure of these public confrontations lies, it is clear that President Borton has not performed well in his self-cast role as the spiritual father of Haverford. T ih . here is no reason, however, why the President should assume such a role in the first place. Most of us have fathers of our own (whom, it might be added, we have troubles enough with). And to whatever extent we need a second, Haverford pro- vides a plethora — Bill Docherty, Forrest Comfort, Dr. Peter Bennett, our favorite faculty member or even our roommate. There is another side to the President though, as anyone who has been to supper at his house can testify. There, and in his unofficial contacts with students in a vari- ety of other ways, he is relaxed and pleasant. And more than that, sympathetic and interesting. We as students can only judge The President of the College as he appears to us, and we ' d be happy if President Borton left us alone. If the other man — let ' s call him Mr. Borton — were to leave us though, we ' d feel the loss. Page 17 i .nother man to whom the role of father is unsuited is Dean Cadbury. His recent retirement from the field of non-academic matters will, I ' m sure, make life pleasanter for all of us — Mr. Cadbury himself included. Much as I have resented Dean Cadbury ' s intrusions into my life during my four years here, I have respect for tlie quality and admiration for the quantity of his thinking about the perplexing questions of educational policy. He has long urged an attitude of serious concern for the whole life of the student on the faculty, and has sought to find new ways of ensuring that each of us is not only educated but educated as widely and fully as pos- sible. One can trace to his office, however, a certain atmos- phere of rigidity about the meaning of that word education . The relevance of a student ' s general average to the ques- tion of whether or not he takes a course at BMC escapes me, for example. The important question is certainly whether the student needs the course — which might well be answered by the fact that he wants to take it. Or, again, why should car permission be tied to averages? Doesn ' t that sound a little like 50 per A, sonny? These are niggling questions — but they reflect a sense I have that the Dean likes people to fit into neat categories: The Good Student , The Beatnik , etc. Wlien they don ' t, as Haverford students notoriously don ' t, the Dean gets uncomfortahle. Discipline of the water- fight variety was very tough for him. We should be glad he ' s well out of it. 1 .11 the foregoing naturally raises the question of Dean Lyons. From what little I ' ve seen of him, it appears that he was brought to Haverford to fill precisely that gap in the Administration — the gap of dealing confortably with stu- dents. It ' s a gap he should fill well, if . . . But there are so many if ' s about it that one month after his arrival seems a little too soon even to list them. It ' s unfortunate that his first official act should have involved something so petty and so fundamental as a stolen sofa. Petty because no one really cared about the sofa; fundamental because the whole question of the relationship between the student body and the administration hung in the balance for a moment then. Despite the ravings of the News though, the issue died a natural and unlamented death — with neither side either very bloody or very bowed. If Dean Lyons can close the gap between students and administration in a way which brings each closer to understanding the other he will be a worth- while person to have around. I he one place where the translation metaphor used to describe the Administration ' s role seems almost funny is in speaking of Aldo Caselli. But here the problem is particularly acute. For Mr. Caselli is devoted to his job — and his job is the diffi- cult one of making Haverford pay its own way. As he sees it, every broken window pane is at worst a threat to the successful accomplishment of that goal — and at best such repairs take money away from other, and much more worthy, tasks. He once said to me, We could have rebuilt Barclay by now with the money we ' ve spent putting it back together again all the time. But the basic difficulty with Mr. Caselli is that he doesn ' t understand how American boys grow up. He ' s nev- er really lived with the idea of the free expression of personality — he sees it meaning, all to often, the uncontrolled expression of childish notions. He comes much closer to the 19th Century ideal of the educator creating the adult from the shapeless clay of the child. And when he sees how shapeless we often look, he loses his patience. Virtue is often, however, its own reward. T. .here are some other areas of the Administration that have impinged blissfully little on us as undergraduates — the Development Office, the Alumni Office, the Infonna- tion Office, etc. (Who knows how many there are now) ! Apart from occasional tilting in the Neivs ( Baker Fired to Aid Development , for example, or the fourth page vacuum after Loren ' s fight with the Alumni) the labyrinthine basement of Founders is more or less innocent of outrages upon the student body. I sort of wish Horizons could be pretty-, if not interesting, but I guess even that ' s too much to ask. E Jpstairs in Founders though lurks the Nugent. Some of us have seen her as a Jacobean figure for all four years — poisoned cup in one hand, winding sheet in the other. To see her thus is to give her too much credit for malice, and too little for knowing what ' s good for us. Probably she ' s right that three solid meals a day are better than a good steak once a week and nothing else — but it ' s hard to remember that while staring at a mass of steam- ing cabbage covered with the gravy that should have been on the cardboard cutlet. Or that clean rooms are better for us than our pet rats. Oh well, some people are doomed by nature to be misun- derstood. Page 21 1 have left Mac for last because I can ' t really talk about him very well. Leaving Haverford will really happen for me, though, when I say Goodbye, Mac. So I guess that ' s the way I ' ll finish this article — by saying goodbye to the man who got me in, and kept me in, and who with affectionate interest and a piercing eye, will shake my hand at parting. The same way he shook it that spring morning when I was a subfreshman who didn ' t know his ass from a teakettle. Page 22 ' 1% SS 1L V ) ' the age  • wnetaphysics anti beautiful wnistahes BY BRADFORD COOK The word Haverford was added to my vocabulary some four years ago when the college invited me to an interview for my present job. I was quite gainfully though drily employed at the time in the fantastic Univer- sity of California. This heart-rending mechanism educates, according to its own catalogued claim, the whole green and golden state In which it- self lies sprawling. Teaching French there was at once hopeless and odd. It was a kind of fun, for example, to instruct a fairly sweet but ultimately mediocre brunette whom an impor- tant local organization elected as its Miss Coachella Grapefruit of 1956. Still, there was probably more than that to French, and since hfaverford was advertised to me as a miniature hot-bed of bright brains, I thought that so ominous a gift, if one could but smooth and cool it down to some- thing human, might prove an inter- esting relief. California Students ' minds, in too many cases, had been, as it seemed to me at least, almost irretrievably ruined by their high schools or by the confident ignorance of their parents. I speak of the majority. There was, of course, the handful — the five or six over an equivalent number of years who could hold their own in any college company. Before they wandered in, God alone knew why, from vacuous desert homes In south- ern California, nothing, or almost nothing, had happened to their minds. Their great good fortune had been their abandonment, rather than destruction, by the schools they had attended as little as possible. What had saved them, and what had pre- served the beautiful innocence? I imagine an obscure Intuition, say from tenth grade on, had warned them (and it is by no means an easy thing to discern at college age, let alone in tenth grade where teachers often for the sake of sheer hierarchy often have to be taken as gods) that most of their teachers were too gross or cretinic to do them any good; and their minds like so many wise clams shut themselves off and retreated into a divined future In which they might magically reopen and thrive. And so it happened: even as early as the freshman year you saw the miracle taking place in the class- room: these happy few — a little punch-drunk from their own blos- soming — who mere months be- fore had known nothing, who had felt nothing, who had hardly the wherewithal to dream, now recouped all their middle teens and began to understand, and to understand deep- ly, and to love to understand deeply. It was all ex nihilo: and it could be moving in the extreme. Page 24 Sfill, a teacher is sfultified by long residence in a single institution; one felt the state of California cycling endlessly upon itself; and the New Englander persuaded hinnself for old times ' sake that he was homesick for trees that needed rain. So I headed for the east and the high college board scores. I found them. They abound, just as you would expect In respectable east- ern colleges. The hlaverford campus does Indeed contain, like a neat green-grassy cranium, the grey mat- ter it prides Itself on. One hears pretty constant reference to the board scores; they are still believed In, they are still quietly though firm- ly brandished; I am not sure that the believers, much as they pooh-pooh their own belief and come out strong- ly for other values , don ' t unconsci- ously and profoundly fall back on board scores as one might welcome a soft palpable cushion to relax from the effort of judgment. 7. Page 25 The pride I spoke of a momenf ago has been, in my experience, largely expressed nof by Haverford students (who have always seemed to me quite modest about their abilities) but by the faculty. In my first year here particularly, 1 was made rather irritatingly aware that a new-comer to the faculty ought really to realize how extraordinary an institution we have here. Is he good enough for us? Is he good enough for Haver- ford? I heard such questions from various faculty members when they were considering new appointments or felt buoyed up by a certain narrow- ness in their experience of other academies. This is a state of mind which an outsider finds fatuous; it makes him wonder how thoroughly the insiders have been acquainted with the outside. It Is good to keep standards up; but when the intellect- ual leaders of a college community begin to worship their own myth, they are stagnating. As to Haverford students, I ' m not sure that I understand them aright; especially, I am not sure whether they are to be interpreted as pecul- iarly of this college or as generally of their time. Their time, I grant them, is lamentable to the extent that it is composed, by the millions, of middle-aged and elderly people whose fear of death has reached the state of pure fear for their bodies; for whom disease has replaced God at the pinnacle of powers. I suppose materialism can go no farther than that. There may or may not be lip service these days to the divine; there is none at all to the coronary, which has now become the true divinity, sucking up the full terror of attention. I hope that whenever parents or doc- tors or government attempt, in this respect, to educate students (don ' t smoke, don ' t drink, don ' t eat, don ' t drug etc.) in the image of their own ill-chosen fear, the students will tell them firmly to go to hell. Because I believe that students have the wrong fears or, as they call them, pressures. My chief feeling is this: that there is on this campus a pite- ous failure of joy and freedom in the development of the individual mind. I believe that a few students are aware of this failure, or, say, of this cramp, and are making quiet, heroic efforts to relax It — heroic be- cause one makes them perforce in solitude and in the face of a vast awe- some trend against them. There Is, I imagine, nothing more difficult on this campus than loving something for Its own sake. Which Is why I ad- duced the example of certain Cal- ifornia students. Perhaps it is the heat there or the famous ' easy living ; whatever it Is, it carries over into the life of the best minds in the form of dislnierestedness. It delighted me at ihe time; Indeed, It flabbergasted me to learn from two or three of the best French majors that their favorite authors were Racine and Proust, both of them extremely difficult and sub- tle. I thought afterwards, however, that It figured ; they were con- tent, whatever the difficulty, to be in the presence of two great minds who are eminently on the disinterested side of things. The Haverford air drones with in- tellectual nnusts and needs. I gotta take this course in order to . . . Words and thoughts to that effect draw the pattern of sterility. Would- n ' t It be healthier to leave college altogether than to live four years of gotta ? I ask the question knowing perfectly well that it can be answered with appeals to pressures and graduate schools and jobs to be got- ten and so forth. I still submit that if you cannot use your pressures — use them as exhilarations — and absorb them into your larger strength and joy in learning, you are sadly past your prime. I confess in all my old-fashioned naivete and sheer ling- ering sentimental romanticism, that there is something almost grotesque, shameful, in the spectacle of young people, healthy and intelligent and Page 26 pretty well educated and not too poverty-stricken, groaning under pressures. If the pressures are real and deep, fight them and beat thenn. If they are fake or induced or imposed or in the psychiatric air — and I will bet plenty of money that they are — simply ignore them. We have had recently, for example, the final examination pressure. The students pointed out to the faculty that the students were suffering. The faculty responded as though a but- ton had been pressed. The pres- sure was promptly removed, i had used to think that there was some- thing even a trifle romantic about tough exam schedules. I mentioned my thought half in jest a few months ago to a Haverford student. He turn- ed on me a look conveying horror and suspicion of my intelligence. How can four exams in five days be romantic?? How could 1 fight that rhetoric? How can anyone fight a pressure? If four exams in five days are nothing but a bug and a pres- sure to a nineteen-year-old; if they have no excitement, no exciting in- justice about them, well, what can one say? I found nothing to say to the student in question, but 1 dream- ed that same night of a pleasant grogginess and fatigue I had once experienced after a six-hour day of Greek exams. And in my dream I even got a touch of writer ' s cramp from the ancient pressure of the pen- cil. In short, Haverford students ap- pear to define themselves as a series of colorless balloons which injurious life can inflate at pleasure to the bursting point. To come back to the question of dis- interestedness. A number of students here are obsessed (or obsession has been forced upon them by teachers] with such civic duties as the Peace Corps, politics, services, bomb- prevention. A few months ago an excellent student, genuinely concern- ed, asked if I would spend a class hour discussing Cuba. But, so far as I can see, a teacher In a liberal arts college has one responsibility, and one only, in the classroom: to speak of his own subject with love and in- telligence. If a bomb drops on us, our shades will at least be able to say to each other that we were en- gaged at the time in the finest sort of exchange there can be between human beings. There is charity in civic duty; there is citizenship. And if the student ' s interest in it is gen- uine and primary, let him perform it. If you feel that this sort of thing fits your secret heart, go to it; if you are heart and soul with your country ' s or your college ' s outlook on life, go to it. But if you are not, and if you yet go along with it, you are be- traying what you are and, more im- portant, betraying what you might be. When the Induced desire to serve and to make one ' s educa- tion serve becomes the living daily substance and tendency of a grow- ing mind, there is, to my sense, tragedy. When you focus upon the practical uses to which you may put your mind at the age of nineteen or twenty, you are being unnatural in a very precise way: you are injuring or neglecting what nature seems to want in a fine mind at that stage: namely, a free pfay of the imagina- tion; a vast poetical trial-and-error period in the sensibility; a free, crazed romantic abandonment of the whole person to possibilities in and beyond our world. It is the age for metaphys- ics and beautiful mistakes. Later on, if and when life closes in on you, if and when your failing health or mind magnetize you to a -nameless moral deity, you may want charity and citizenship. Why not now be a full, free, egotistical, sensual, meditative human being? The world you want to help or free, or whatever sortie you wish to make against fate (fate which you will alM ' ays find just a little too big for American policy), will never, I believe, know your best presence unless you have first told it No! in thunder, simply because you may have been busy with your sacred duty of discovering the depths of poetry or metaphysics that God stuck you with. Page 27 significant differences ' BY ARYEH KOSMAN The difficulty of characterizing Haver- ford students is that they seem to the novice eye at once so homogeneous and radically diverse. Their diversity, I mean to say, isn ' t of a collective sort. Where I was an undergraduate, one could with almost unfailing accuracy point to the various species of homo studiensis, spe- cies noticeably distinguished by their attire, living habits, strut, diet, and gen- eral demeanor. The numerous strains fell roughly into two camps: the fra- ternal, politically conservative, Brooks- breasted all-American looked upon his misanthropic, radical, sneaker-soled and sensitive brother as some kind of a joke, and was looked upon in turn as an in- sensitive beast. And in general beast was beast, jest was jest, and never the strains did meet. Here, not only do the strains meet but there aren ' t, properly speaking, strains at all. One feels a striking diversity, but a diversity which on the one hand is anchored in a kind of communal homo- geneity, and on the other defies by its complexity classification into distinct types. The situation is, to coin a cliche, paradoxical. And, in that wonderfully involuted way paradoxes have, the atti- tude of the student towards it is expres- sive of it. He wants to boast of that which is distinctively and commonly hiaverford, but hastens to assure us that he is by no means a typical hiaverford student. In deference to this sentiment, I hereby grant each reader permission to except himself from the following sketch of what seem to me some of the features common to Haverford students. One is struck immediately, I think, by a kind of honesty and naturalness about the Haverford student. One might al- most, except for fear of being lynched, call it wholesomeness. That isn ' t to say that these qualities are always on the surface (I must have daily half-a-dozen occasions to say come off it ). Nor is it to say that the Haverford student is never phony. But even in his moment of pretension, his comportment is unmannered, his stance somehow natural and authentic; one deals perhaps with a kid who takes himself too seriously, but rarely with a full-grown fake. The other side of this coin is that for better or worse he Is short on sophisti- cation. Most notably he lacks social sophistication, but there Is a naivete to his nature In other ways as well. The exception is perhaps his wit; although he takes himself seriously, his humor is often subtle and sophisticated. He is short of patience with ' drudgery ' and wants to leap Immediately to the kernel of truth, the message, and to concern himself only with that which speaks directly to his condition. There is a certain egoism In his way of judg- ing all things by what they ' mean ' to him, as well as a failure to appreciate how much drudgery Is Involved in bur- rowing Into a bank vault, or running the UN, or above all, learning what does speak to his condition, and what It says. In the same vein, he Is convinced that rules are primarily designed to be dis- pensed with (especially In his case). If work is to be neglected which doesn ' t directly touch his life and sensibility, so are conventional ways of doing things (artificial at best) to be discarded If they don ' t quite fit his individual situa- tion. He will for the most part give in to the rules, but grudgingly, and with a curse on ' stuffy academic formalism ' . Page 28 When he does latch on to something that speaks to him, and is free to deal with it in his way, this quality makes for an exciting an l committed involvement on his part. I suspect it further ac- counts for one of the most refreshing qualities of the Haverford student, his breadth of interest. It is indescribably heartening to find e.g. science majors not only interested .but able to hold their own in humanities. Perhaps this results as well from that unique close- ness and sense of intimacy which char- acterizes the hiaverford community. Liv- ing and working together with men en- gaged in the exploration of several fields, the student (like the faculty mem- ber) is exposed to the breadth and diversity of human experience and knowledge in a way which can only be nourishing to his soul and mind. In spite of all this, of course, there re- main the significant differences. Stu- dents are intellectuals and scientists, engineers and poets, militant pacifists and peaceful militarists, theists and atheists, Pagans, Christians and Jews; they are necktied and blue-jeaned, wild- eyed and hard-headed, left, right, and center, bright and brighter, and above all, radically, and I find delightfully, earnest in their attempt to be honestly what they are. I have avoided calling these remarks impressions for fear of giving away the secret that I ' m impressed. But it ' s my Impression that I have every reason to k I Page 29 valet e hawnines sapientes haverfariliensism valete! BY ALDO CASELLI Homo Sapiens Haver-fordiensis; skip the Sapiens (this is a faculty concern) and focus on the Homo at his four stages: infans, puer, adulescens, juvenis, similar to four steps which lead to the coveted diploma fortified with the seal of the College (I wonder what the Food and Drug Administration would say). The infantes arrived roughly 45 months prior to the fatidical date of June 7 and be- gan their process of education. As they crossed the gate, God became second to them. Divide et Impera was their motto and in Barclay they set up their headquarters. This was in the happy era before Jim Lyons. Experimentations on the validity of Galileo ' s findings were soon begun with the tenants of the third floor using the stair shaft. Empty bottles came crashing down and smashing on the hard surface of the entrance. (How many missed the heads of tenants en- tering the building, G.O.K. ) What fun to put the building In darkness by pull- ing the switches and hiding the fuses; starting the fire alarm and then fixing the horns so that the dormitory repre- sentative might complain that they were not loud enough; soccer in the corri- dors, volley ball In the lounge, burned bulletin boards, and upset trash bar- rels. What is more fun than to dart- mark a door, or chip linoleum floors. Ha! Ha! Ha! Caselll does not give grades! What fun! Cheaper than the movies! Who said Janitors have a spark God only knows. of God? Clean up the mess I make or else tomorrow it will be worse. And all this with the mathematical assurance that nothing of importance will happen. Everybody gets excited (this is part of the fun), but nothing will really happen — Papa may get some charges but, regardless of the figure, when It Is di- vided by 125 it is a small charge. So, keep on smashing bottles. Long live the freshmen! There Is a continuous deterioration of the splendor witnessed on the blessed day when the Holy Experiment began — when anxious parents left the younger generation in the hands of an ambitious Custom Committee which was supposed to explain all of Haverford In three short lessons and make the transition easy. (Did it do It?) First to go was the tie, then the coat, then the standard of cleanliness; the hair began to grow, the first step toward the Founders Fratern- ity: home to a crop of fake beatniks! recognize and to accept him; instead, he is ahenated, ir- revocably a faceless member of the opposing camp. The situation is easier for the upperclassman. He has been able to form at least a partial estimate of his own abilities, so the professor loses a little of his threaten- ing power of judgment. Blue books no longer contain the final answer of his fate. In addition, the upperclassman has the reassuring feeling that teachers recognize him, that they are ready to grant his individuality. But the change is not com- plete, and a considerable gap remains between student and teacher. This gap is in part due simply to the indiffer- ence of some professors. Dur- ing my sophomore year, I had an adviser who, while I talked, stared intently out the window of his library of- fice at the people walking in and out of Chase. Sometimes he would vary the routine by tracing idle patterns on his scratch pad. But my hu- milation was not complete until the day he lifted his foot to the desk while I was holding forth, then calmly untied and tied his shoe- lace. Still, I found my attitudes being modified. On one oc- casion, I was arguing with a political science professor in front of Union. He had just made a point with a vehement jab of his index finger and an explosion of Viennese profanity. At that moment his little daughter walked up, and, with a sheepish smile, he introduced me. I remember being start- led to see the aloof arbiter who was my teacher playing the dutiful father, watching his language in front of his children. Such m o m e n t s helped to dispel the aura of unassailable authority with which I had so readily in- vested my professors. A change was evident within the classroom as well. Pro- fessors could be pressed — on occasion they were edgy and defensive. I remember an argument between a stu- dent and his teacher over the merits of Wordsworth ' s poe- try. The professor was at first characteristically ironic and flippant, then more ser- ious, more alert, finally im- Page 35 patient and a little shrill. It occurred to me that students can argue freely and inform- ally; only their opinions, cas- ually acquired and easily changed, are at stake. But the professional judgment of the teacher is a different thing. His opinions are the very stuff of his identity, and only the more confident can see them vigorously chal- lenged without feeling at least a measure of anxiety. The demigods who judged me, then, might be as vul- nerable intellectually as I often felt myself to be. Teachers were becoming people, with backgrounds similar to my own, and short- comings that we all shared. I no longer looked on un- easily when my classic pro- fessor bounced up and down with glee while reading a particularly juicy passage from Suetonius or Aristo- phanes. He was having a good time and I could share his enjoyment. I found it pos- sible to approach a teacher whom I did not know and talk to him about disarma- ment. In tense moments with mj ' psychology teacher, I never bothered with euphe- misms like That was a rather hard test, sir. How much less artificial simply to sav, Your exams are hos- tile! So my college life had been significantly broadened. Many classes were more re- laxed, and I encountered points of view other than those held by my fellow stu- dents. But the gap never completely disappeared. To this day my former adviser continues to fool with his scratch pad. A literature pro- fessor, from whom I have taken several courses, still greets me with the same froideur I had noticed when I first met him. I suppose that this gap is a necessary aspect of college life, and that there are very good reasons why it cannot be erased. If a friend of mine decides to spend the even- ing reading a book for fun, or having a date, I can ig- nore his activities if I wish. I can conclude that what he is doing is, given his partic- ular situation, a good thing, as it very well might be. Or I can, for one reason or an- other, disapprove. But the next morning, when my friend fails a surprise read- ing quiz, his professor can neither ignore nor approve. A low mark automatically goes down in the book. It may be argued that stu- dent-teacher friendship is possible if both parties are able to place academics is an objective perspective, that is, if the student feels noth- ing personal in the F, and the professor, in his turn feels no hesitation about giv- ing it. But such impartiality is not easily sustained. The other possibility is that the student will avoid such con- flicts by always meeting his obligations with success; but very few undergraduates are perfect scholars all the time. Thus the gap between pro- fessor and student is an in- evitable aspect of college life. I think we can also say that the students will feel uncomfortable if the ostensi- ble signs of this gap are not preserved. These signs are often of the simplest kind. The teacher is the one who wears the coat and tie to class; he is the one whom everyone — usually — ad- dresses as Mister. I know one professor who is often addressed by his first name in class. Many students are disturbed by this practice. For others, it is sufficient that the teacher ' s knowl- edge, and his personality, set him apart. But it is clear that the professor who aban- dons the obvious distinctive signs of his position is plac- ing more of a strain on his intrinsic ability to command respect and to exercise auth- ority. The various aspects of this problem appear more clear- ly in the case of one of my friends who was once ad- monished by his physics pro- fessor because he had said Mrs. rather than using her first name. In this case the familiarity implied by the use of the first name was balanced by a deference which was intellectual in its origins. The student feels a profound respect for her abil- ities as a teacher and scien- tist; and she in turn trusts the students and assumes that he will always try to meet the demands that she makes on him. This is prob- ably the ideal situation. It is not based on the elimina- tion of the gap between stu- dent and teacher; in a way the distance between the two is accentuated, for the stu- dent accepts without reser- an obvious lack of self-con- sciousness he was treating students as equals. I was pleased and impressed, but, at the same time, I was dis- vation his academically sub- ordinate position to the teacher. When a professor has not confirmed his authority with students, it will be very much harder for him to put his pupils at their ease. Re- cently, I saw a bearded, young professor twistLng at a beer party in Leeds. With Uirbingly aware of a certain curiosity in my scrutiny, a certain need to explain his lack of concern for the for- malities of his position by catagorizing him as an ec- centric. My own point of view was further clarified by an inci- dent which occurred last se- mester. I was trying to ex- plain to a professor, with whom I was on good terms, how I had forgotten about a report I was supposed to pre- sent in his class the next day. His first words, in an icy voice, were You ' re go- ing to have a lot of work to do. The comment was not inappropriate, but I was startled and wounded none the less. The incident was unpleasant for me probably because neg- ative judgments coming from those we dislike, or to whom we are indifferent, are al- ways easier to absorb than censure from people we have come to trust and whose good will we rely on. We must fight hard to win and hard- er to retain the good graces of our teachers, whose favor is represented by the marks that they enter in their Uttle black books. This fall, a lan- guage teacher, who is sup- posed to be cruel and unrea- sonable, went out of his way to modify the project I was doing with him. He limited the reading and give me two extensions. Still, I thought that my paper was bad, and as I climbed the stairs to his office, I felt much the way I had as a child when, after breaking something, or do- ing something wrong, I knew that I would have to with- stand the displeasure of my parents. I think the analogy is a good one; in many respects, the relationship between student and professor can be com- pared only with the ties be- tween parents and children. Last week, I was leafing through a final exam which had been corrected by the professor whose report I had neglected. In the middle of the book, I came across a page where two angry lines had been drawn through what I had written. Irrrel- evant was the angry com- ment in the margin. I exper- ienced a brief, intense, but quickly lost, sense of anxi- ety; such criticisms had of course been directed at me many times in my career at Haverford, and I had school- ed myself to ignore them, or at least not to take them too seriously. But a moment la- ter, I caught myself; I tried to salvage that moment of anxiety, to remember where I had experienced it before. And it suddenly struck me that I had once felt that same stab of apprehension when my father had disapproved of something that I had done, when he had frowned, when I had anticipated his impending wrath and the punishment which would ac- company it. Marks, then, are more than abstract judgments of intel- lectual performance; the stu- dent often cannot help in- terpreting his grades as com- ments on his worth as a per- son, he cannot help invest- ing the teacher with extra- ordinary judgmental powers. Many teachers exploit their position. I am reminded of those professors who gave brutal exams on which the median grade is ridiculous- ly low, then magnanimously scale the marks up to a re- spectable level. This is like knocking someone into the mud. then gallently helping him to his feet; as a psycho- logical device it is very valu- able, for it enables the pro- fessor to indulge his aggres- sive and even his sadistic im- pulses and a moment later to pose as the generous friend of his students. This authority which is in- herent to the role of teacher is very important. Most of the intense concern for closer student-faculty relations is symptomatic of a desire, oft- en unconscious, to escape Haverford ' s academic pres- sures, to placate that threat- ening figure who might con- demn us. We hope that the teacher who is our friend will not exercise some of the formidable power he seems to possess. But the good teacher will not be seduced, and the teacher who is a friend is likely to be an even more demanding taskmaster than the professor who re- mains at a distance, simply because the importance of his opinion in the mind of the student will be greatly magnified. In retrospect I can see a pro- gression in my attitudes to- ward the faculty. At first, I felt completely alienated. I endowed my professors with supernatural powers and feared the punishments with which they threatened me. Then, in a series of grad- ual steps, I discovered cer- tain inaccuracies in the pic- ture I had drawn; professors were neither perfect nor all- powerful. But now I am al- so aware that, in essence, my first impression was correct, that while teachers may be falUble human beings, they are nevertheless authority figures whose function is to judge their students. The teacher is supposed to know more than his pupils; it is his job to tell them when and where their efforts to learn have been unsuccess- ful or misguided. Even Soc- rates taught by a series of subtle punishments — the criticisms and the amplifica- tions which he made of the opinions of his pupils. Stu- dent-teacher relations cer- tainly ought to be a dialogue, but we should not suppose that it will be a dialogue in which authority can be shared equally. The nature of learning, then, requires the teacher to as- sume a position of superior- ity and the student to accept in some degree a subordinate place. Some teachers act as if they were unaware of the significance of their power, others tend to exploit this position. The best professors recognize the implications of their special authority, and are, in turn, able to make their students recognize these implications. Among students, satisfactory rela- tions with the faculty will depend on the degree to which they have resolved the conflicts which natural- ly arise from living in a com- petitive and demanding aca- demic community. The teacher inevitably will be an authority figure; student at- titudes toward him will nat- urally be ambivalent. Thus, the question of student-facul- ty relations cannot really be conclusively resolved. It will remain a difficult problem to be solved bj ' a series of silent and seldom permanent com- promises the student makes with Haverford. F v4 Charlotte Anderson Manuel J. Asensio John Ashmead, Jr. Peter Bachrach Philip W. Bell Thomas A. Benham Robert W. Brewster Edwin B. Bronner James 0. Brooks Robert H. Butman Henry J. Cadbury William E. Cadbury, Jr. John R. Cary John P. Chesick Howard Comfort Bradford Cook Guy M. Davenport, Jr. William C. Dayidon John H. Davison Frances deGraaff Paul J. R. Desjardins Alfred Diamant WilUam Docherty, Jr. Arthur P. Dudden Harmon C. Dunathan Irving Finger James Fowle Harvey Glickman Louis C. Green Madelyn R. Gutwirth Marcel Gutwirth George L. Hagen A. Paul Hare Douglas H. Heath George A. Heise Theodore B. Hetzel Charles H. Holbrow Laurence B. Holland Clayton W. Holmes Holland Hunter Dale H. Husemoller Vernon L. Ingraham George A. Kennedy Louis A. Kosman John A. Lester, Jr. Ariel G. Loewy Wallace MacCaffrey Colin F. MacKay Margaret J. Mathies Cletus Oakley Francis H. Parker Sidney I. Perloe Harry W. Pfund Ernest J. Prudente Frank J. Quinn Roy E. Randall William H. Reese Ira DeA. Reid Edgar S. Rose Ottomar Rudolf Melvin Santer Ralph M. Sargent Alfred W. Satterthwaite Fay A. Selove English Showalter, Jr. Eugene Smolensky Louis Solomon Herman M. Somers John W. Spanier Gerhard E. Spiegler John P. Spielman, Jr. Douglas V. Steere Howard M. Teaf, Jr. Craig R. Thompson Frederick W. Turner, HI Robert L Walter Eric Walther Robert C. Williamson Frank H. Young Elizabeth Zenn Absent on leave 1962-63 faculty 1962-63 Page 44 Mundus minor Haverfordiensis has its rat race. And three citizens of that small world both oversee and ease the running of the race. Stan and Pat Docherty and Mrs. Andrews are the three; combining judge, jury and traffic cop in their own jurisdictions. Stan is a living proof that something can simul- taneously be and not be (DVS take note). Pat, that all things come to him who waits (John IMilton take note). And Mrs. Andrews, that wrath can be tempered by mercy (Nota bene. Job). Enough ' s enough! Each of us has his own private reason for being grateful — let ' s keep the reasons private, and make our gratitude public. Page 45 (Stephen W. Meader was an English major when he attended Haver- ford. He was an Editor of the Haverfordian and of his Class Record. He worked as a copywriter at N. W. Ayer SC Sons for 30 years. When he retired 5 years ago, he was a creative supervisor for the agency. Over the years he has found time to write 37 boys ' adventure novels. He was elected permanent President of the Class of ' 13 at its fifth reunion.) Page 46 HALF-CENTURY VISTA To you men of Haverford, 1963, the year 1913 must appear only slightly removed from the Dark Ages. To us who graduated in that golden year it seems like yesterday. Let us see what has changed and what has endured. Physically, you say, the college must be vastly different? It ' s true that you have the Field House and many other new structures. But the heart of the campus — Founders ' , Roberts, much of Lloyd, Barclay, the Li- brary and the Gym, the Science Buildings and Walton Field still stand as we knew them. The great old trees still shadow lovely lawns. And all the lures of a Haverford spring still torture young men try- ing to study for their final exams. We had our faculty idols in such great teachers as Francis Barton Gummere, Rufus Jones, Lyman Beecher Hall and Isaac Sharpless. No doubt you, too, have found inspiration in such men. Scholastic standards, high in our day, are higher still for you. It was a smaller college when we were undergraduates. In a stu- dent body of 170 it was possible even for a Freshman to establish lifelong friendships with lordly upperclassmen. Our very paucity of numbers may have developed a unity, an esprit de corps that will never be so strong again. Perhaps we weren ' t quite as serious. After ten years of world peace it seemed to us to be a permanent condition. America was a great country, forging rapidly ahead in science and invention. Why, there were almost as many automobiles as horses on Lancaster Pike, and occasionally we heard the chatter of a stick-and-wire biplane over- head! The atom was merely the smallest indivisible part of matter. So in our innocence we played, as we worked, with great enthusiasm; won our share of games; decorated the Gym for proms; harmonized on Founders ' steps in the warm spring evenings. Forgive us a bit of nostalgia as we look back. And may your own memories of Haverford be as kind when you are fifty years older! Stephen W. Meader President, Class of 1913 Page 47 Raymond Andrews, the Bard of Ninth Entry, is definitely not an organization n-ian. In fact, Ray is a sort of a per- petual child, an unfettered spirit, free of the cynicism so prevalent among his contemporaries. To most of his fellow students, Ray is merely an insignificant part of the Haverford panorama; for those who know him, however, his per- sistent refusal to take himself, or any- body else, too seriously make him a pleasant, easy-going companion and a Larry ' s academic interests reflected his concern for clear and accurate thought. For him, a model expressed in symbols and describing astronomical forces of cosmic immensity was a crea- tion of great beauty and an intellectual triumph. In accordance with his inter- ests and intellectual habits, his under- graduate course was organized around the related fields of physics, mathe- matics, logic, and astro-physics. To this he added a great deal of language study in Greek, Russian, and German. Interest in grammatical parallels led him to take up linguistics. As a recognition of his hard work and interest, he re- ceived his Phi Beta Kappa key at the end of junior year and was awarded a NSF grant for summer work. ANDREWS AUER BARBER warm friend. Ray ' s extremely ' varied interests, which include bluegrass music, folklore, political philosophy, and con- temporary literature, are indicative of his intellectual curiosity and his unusual- ly wide reading. Basically anti-utilitar- ian and antl-authoritarlan by nature, Ray is considerably more comfortable In the creative- atmosphere of the hu- manities than in the more rigidly de- fined scientific disciplines; he Is able to discuss Intelligently almost any aspect of literature or philosophy, but only by comprehensive memorization of Kep- ler ' s Laws was he able to squeak his way through astronomy. When ques- tioned, Ray denied having any future plans, for he has yet to decide which form of social discipline he would least mind submitting himself to; only In the freest situation conceivable will Ray be able to fulfill himself completely. Ray Andrews Larry was deeply impressed by the Quaker way of life and remained a firm pacifist with a clear conception of the dangers of atomic madness. He be- lieved that an active opposition to mod- ern warfare was the great challenge and calling of all Christian churches. Larry ' s extracurricular activities In- cluded work on the radio station, sev- eral managers positions for teams, and his chairmanship of the Rules Commit- tee. One might also mention his op- eration of the observatory during Dr. Green ' s absence. Larry cut a colorful figure, cowboy hat and mustachio flapping In the breeze, striding across the campus and colliding indiscriminately with various objects. Or one might see him in the dining hall making a point about the two cultures or about pacifism by bring- ing his hand down squarely in his soup. He can be counted on to bump at least one future Astronomer Royal. Larry Auer Down from the North the Barber came to Haverford ' s abysmal groves to do battle with the demon rum, the serpent honor, and the hydra knowl- edge. Bloody but unbowed, our hero retreated to the sanctuary of junior executlvity, to come again, after a year, to the dreadful plain. His ranks swelled by the acquisition of a wife and a fiend- ish engine In his attache case, he re- mained contentious, irrepressible. He exorcised the demon, outtalked the ser- pent, and stood his ground with the hydra, and, to the amazement of all, lived happily ever after. Put Barber  B ft j ji L i a Barry had a strong practical bent which showed itself in his dislike for the overly theoretical and abstract in aca- demic life. It was natural that he choose to major in political science, a field which concerns itself with empirical realities and concrete solutions. It was a fortunate choice. Barry was able to combine a long-standing interest with an academic discipline and came out with a firm decision to teach and per- haps practice political science. His own political position was that of a socialist who wanted to soak the fat boys. hHe was a crusader who had a keen sense of what it feels like to be an underdog in the South or anywhere else. With his earthy sense of humor and raw cynicism, he laid into the false hHistorian, librarian, and disc jockey. Bill Beik has been active In a variety of fields during his four years at Haver- ford. He combines a taste for the baroque beauties of Purcell with a fond- ness for the more plebeian offerings of WIBG. He provided WHRC ' s micro- scopic Monday night audience with Manfredini, but he reached a much larger public as a member of the li- brary ' s corps of reserve desk guardians. As one of the few remaining Seniors in the Glee Club, he has shown both tolerance and persistence. Trained In history by Messrs. MacCaffrey, Spiel- man, and Andrews, he has cultivated a talent for cultural history and an aver- He Is the very model of a bright orches- tral president; He ' s friends galore and quotes the score, a faithful tearoom resident. He smokes wild pipes with odours vile, and lives in Holmes Sherlockian. He fills his ears with pondrous notes — Wagnerian not Bachian. BARLOW BEIK BELANGER ideals and pompous orations of certain politicians. Barry ' s Interests outside politics were principally music, litera- ture, and religion. He had a detailed knowledge of the technique of conduc- tors and the clarity and balance they could achieve with various orchestras. He accumulated a record collection which became Increasingly difficult to transport and which he drew on for his radio programs. He had a love for good literature, but especially for clas- sical works as a result of his knowledge of Greek and Latin. Throughout his college career, Barry sought to under- stand and practice Anglo-Cathollc faith and discipline. Barry ' s c redo might be stated as I have opinions; therefore, I am. He believed in taking firm positions on al- most any issue. Barry Barlow sion to English place-names. He was often to be found at odd hours In Drinker polishing new compositions for posterity on certain questionable pianos. Enthroned in Scull House after three years in Barclay, Bill has covered his walls with postcard views of French cathedrals and medieval tapestries. And so, surrounded by the glories of the moyen age, he prepares for his fu- ture in college teaching. Bill Beik In cowboy boots and nightshirts red he studies plays Shakespearean And rattles off the peppered quotes of Mamma Belangerlan. Humanity and sanity In situations Dok- toral. Proclaim his creed in every deed, each morning, noon and nocturnal. As yet we haven ' t spoken of his shorts, his vests, his gold watch chains. His oriental carpets and his multitudes of other pains; The dirty glassware piled on high is just a triviality; But all in all we think he is a major personality. Terry Belanger Page 49 Caselli ' s doctrine You playa, you paya, has a profound meaning for playful Charlie Bernhelmer. Charlie Is not as much worried about parking tickets as about hidden damages sud- denly revealing themselves. To Haver- ford, he is good-natured, solid Charlie B., Joiner. He is captain of the fencing team, chairman of the Collection Speaker ' s Committee and Secretary of the Senior Class. An English major, he is as adept with the shovel as with the foil. But Charlie ' s playful conduct proved that good fencers actually do not make good neighbors. Although he has no idea as to what it entails, Charlie wants to become an interna- tional businessman. The chief worry his senior year was convincing both Yale and himself that he really wanted It is a quarter-to-three. From the room above comes the soft pounding sound of a Remington Noiseless type- writer. Jim is in the process of produc- ing a great work of historical scholar- ship, already thirty-four pages long. He is a history major which accounts for the number of typewriter ribbons he uses. Surviving Mr. MacCaffrey ' s trial by paper, he has still found time to devote his talents to other fields. Economics is interesting to him. His time in Mr. Lester ' s literature course has produced a series of notable papers BERNHEIMER BLUMBERG BLU to attend law school. Yale ' s main drawback was its distance from Wynne- wood. No longer would his mother be able to drop in with packets of coffee ice cream or clean clothing. Asked how going to law school will make him an international businessman, Charlie shrugs and says that he is scared of being a graduate hack in English. The humanities and the history of ideas, this self-styled Renaissance man admits, draw him. He dreams of personally fulfilling Matthew Arnold ' s definition of a critic as an apostle of culture. But anarchical international business appears an International playground. He ' ll learn; for even in international affairs, those who play, pay. Charley Bernheimer A common practice, which reflects the notion that different Investigators and readers may hold different views as to the ' losses ' or ' gains ' involved In Implementing a social scientific finding, is for the researcher simply to report the probability level associated with his finding. Indicating that the null hypothe- sis may be rejected at that level. — Siegel, S. — Nonparametric statistics. Herb Blumberg demonstrating his organizational ability. Music is important in his life. He is one of the very few people at Haver- ford who can boast of having a season ticket to the Philadelphia Orchestra. If you listen carefully, you are sure to hear the sound of a classical symphony be- tween the patter of the typewriter keys. Jim ' s extracurricular exertions have been mainly for the sake of Class Night. He was responsible for the organization of the vast backstage forces, or rather, he was the vast backstage forces. Only once has he stepped forth from behind the scenes: his masterful interpretation of Dull won cheers and wide acclaim. Jim Blumenfhal Page 50 BOWLEJ Haverford s only Anthropology Ma- jor. There is some question as to whether he attends Haverford or Bryn Mawr; since most of his classes are at Bryn Mawr. Production manager of the Drama Club for almost three years. In this position he accomplished two things: helped to get a new lighting system for Roberts Hall, and set some kind of rec- ord on Drama Club budget expendi- tures. We got some nice new lights out of this, as well as a set of black curtains that fit both Goodhart and Roberts halls. In connection with the Drama Club, President Borton, Mr. Caselli, and the Dean were seen to wonder If an entirely disassembled Jace is shower, shave, and sack , but mostly sack, curator of the College Out- line Series (which he reproduces peri- odically in shortened form), and a swim- mer. The guy doesn ' t speak unless he has something to say, and then you know he ' s thought about It for awhile; but he laughs a lot. He ' s the one who can write well even when he ' s saying John ' s Haverford life was full of mo- mentous discoveries. In his freshman year he discovered the three best of all possible roommates (namely us, the authors of this vignette); he also dis- covered soccer, a worthy bridge part- ner, and the secret of success in com- petitive golf (be cheerful and chatty when your opponent isn ' t). Time went on, and the discoveries continued; but now it was John who was discovered by others. Various depart- ments implored him to grace their cur- ricula; John thought it over, then re- MENTHAL CARROLL COLE motorcycle in the basement of Roberts was really necessary in the production of Venus Observed. Various motorcycles. Founders, and a green dinosaur may be considered to- gether. Frank has lived In Founders for all of his years at Haverford, and following the tradition of Lelghton Scott and Lynn Allen, has maintained a motorcycle. The first one was a 250cc Peugeot. It died horribly when TK Sharpless ran it up a tree in front of the Dean ' s house. (The Dean, one suspects, was not heartbroken.) The second, and present, motorcycle is a huge, heavy, old 1951 Triumph. If somewhat faster, it is at least quieter than the Peugeot. Its name, if anyone cares, is Igor. Frank also has a small green dinosaur in his room, its name is Sinclair and it has a necktie. Frank Bowles nothing. He is the scholar of expressions — ar- chetype of impeccability — conceived from a prostrate position, with one jaun- diced eye on the ceiling and the other watching you. Puns sneak from the corner of his mouth without in the least disturbing his facial expression. And he ' s the guy with ' Feeb ' . John Carroll gretfully passed up Bill Reese and Frank Parker and tossed the palm to the om- niscient and inimitable Wallace Mac- Caffrey. Finally, and most momentously, Bryn Mawr discovered John, and compen- sated in Its Intensity for its tardiness. John, who has never quite adjusted to the fact that he is considered excep- tional, reacted to his success with char- acteristic mixed emotions: initial be- wilderment ( I didn ' t intend to snow that girl; what did I do wrong? ) and ultimate euphoria ( I think I ' m snowed. ) And so John went through Haver- ford, carrying off all aspects of his life with his own unconscious gracefulness; furnishing mute but eloquent proof that nothing is that hard if you just take it in stride. At least, if you happen to be John Cole. John Cole Page 51 From the land of Sleepy Hollow, high on the plains overlooking the Hudson, came Haverford ' s only true friend of the Headless Horseman. During his four years here Chuck compiled a rec- ord of pranks and practical jokes that would have made even Brom Bones proud. Just remember the Fourth of It is questionable whether John or the Political Science department has suffered more through his four years here. It may be significant that John remains while the entire original poli. sci. faculty has departed, perhaps to greener pastures. Reported to be Haverford ' s loudest bridge player, John has, unlike many of his classmates, pre- ferred the pasteboards to late hours at Tenth. In his infrequent jaunts to this fabled den, the hamburgers, cokes, and dartboard have exclusively been his pleasure. John returned his senior year with a bride and what was for him a new car. Alan is one of those fellows you bofh j notice and don ' t notice at the same I time. His manner is quiet, yet distinc- j tive, as he glides across campus, barely condescending to amaze some passing underclassman by proving once again that the Stork has the fastest bird in the college. He speaks rarely, but when he does, he makes up for his si- lence by being I) brutally explicit ( Nice meal, Miriam ), or 2) brutally loud ( QUIET, DAMN IT ). Don ' t be fooled, though, by the non- committal facade. After an unfortu- nate slip freshman year (apprehension CONN COOK CRANE CR A WF July pyrotechnics in mid-May or the placing of a sixteen-foot Christmas tree in a Barclay bathroom! Chuck ' s outstanding characteristic is his ability to become involved in a mul- titude of campus activities, sanctioned or otherwise. On committee lists, in clubs, and on team rosters, the name Conn, C. appears with great fre- quency. And yet he manages to do all this and the multitude of papers and reading assignments required of a Poli. Sci. major while still joining his room- mates for a few hands of bridge or hearts. When he has a free weekend, which appears to be quite often, he is most likely found spending it with a very special coed from Douglass Col- lege. Ever since freshman year. Chuck has been surrounded at all times by people. His ability to make friends with such ease will undoubtedly be of great value as he pursues his goal of becoming a ' ye - Chuck Conn The combination proved to be a dan- gerous one but only the car suffered. His unregistered Chevy, now minus a fender and affectionately called The one-eyed monster, can be seen every morning at 8:15 entering the Sharpless faculty lot. In contrast to the poor record of the car, wife Sue ' s skill as a hostess is renowned. The honeymoon- ers have unselfishly extended to many members of the Haverford community a hearty welcome. Perhaps Cookie ' s principal contri- bution to Haverford life has been in his spirited support of athletics, both as a spectator and a participant. His vio- lent partisan attitude will be sorely missed in the Haverford stands, as will his bat and glove on the baseball dia- mond. John Cook Page S2 for hijacking a telephone truck), this exterior successfully hid an ardent row- dy who was instrumental in organizing innumerable water fights, plots for off- campus car storage, and finally, exploits of the Green Gnad. A consistent win- ner at bridge and a consistent loser at casino, Alan was always willing to let off pressure. But students just don ' t graduate from Haverford unless they apply more than a passing interest to academics. Many were the nights that the Lloyd quad- ragle rang with the ever-loud voice, (though perhaps raised a few octaves from its usual second bass register), CLAYTON HOLMES IS BREAKING MY BACK. Anyway, Alan rationalized that being a student of life is much preferable to being a student of en- gineering. Isn ' t that what the liberal arts are for? Specialization will come soon enough — next year in applied physics. Al Crane Dan joined our class In junior year as a day student and brought with him a concern for ultimate questions which never left him. hlis intensity and intel- lectual honesty gave him a marked in- dividuality which was steady and strong. Underneath his somewhat stern exterior, there was a warm and candid nature which often revealed Itself in discus- sions with friends. At the beginning of senior year, Dan and his wife Judy moved into Dr. Borton ' s apartment and Dan began to enter more fully into our communal life. He participated In our musical life by joining the Glee Club. In his courses in the philosophy, re- ligion, and psychology departments, Dan was looking for a broad. Intelligent view of the human predicament and of Sally, you ' ve got five more minutes. With that warning, Dave brought an- other study date to a prompt close and started to clean up the remnants of 83 Lloyd ' s traditional 23rd hour smorgas- bord. Returning from Bryn Mawr about twenty minutes later, Dave still had an- other hour to study before turning in at 1 :00. Never a man to waste time, Dave was one of the very few students at Haverford who was able to couple a number of extra-curricular activities Better known to many as Jerry, the Quiet Quake, captain of the basket- ball team, H.F.D., Jr. is a native of West Chester, Pennsylvania — the crossroads of the world. During four years at Haverford Jerry was the sparkplug of the basketball team, first on the JV then for three years as a high scorer on the varsity squad. He has also been the capable leader of the Class of ' 63 soccer team, guiding his crew to the intramural championship senior year. Although known on campus as a top athlete (but not as a jock ?), Daris ORD D ANEKER DARLINGTON the contributions which the Christian faith could make in its solution. He was moving towards an inclusive, rational statement of faith which would make it vital and responsive to human needs. In class discussions, Dan had the cour- age to speak his mind and to demand clarity in others. He was quick to see the practical implications of a philoso- phical position. His approach was one of straightforwardness and common sense. This sometimes led him to ques- tion the paradoxes and resolutions of the great Platonic master of Railroad Avenue which gave an added bump to the dialectical process. In seminary, Dan will continue his in- vestigations in a more concentrated manner and still seek to find, in his own terms, the dedication, integrity, and self-consciousness demanded by the pastoral life. Dan Crawford with an A average. He began modestly as an officer and then Manager of the Freshman Glee Club, but he also supplied two years ' of fodder for the football team ' s grist mill. After declining an offer to play professional football with the Winnipeg Blue Bombers, Dave turned his attention to class politics and was President of the class for his junior and senior years. He was also a member of the Glee Club for three years, but finally de- cided th at even two or three Glee Club trips away from the Haverford (BRYN MAWR) area was too much. Instead, Dave spent his time working as a coach at Haverford School in order to build up the kitty with which he intended to make a life-time investment in the dia- mond market. Christmas 1962 saw that investment. Prediction: August 1963 will see Dave make an additional invest- ment in the gold market. The legal profession could hardly welcome a finer person. Dave Daneker has some outstanding academic accom- plishments to his credit — most notably his analysis of psychiatric techniques at Mercy Douglass Hospital in connection with work in his major field, sociology. Jerry is also a music-lover who has stead- ily broadened the scope of his musical knowledge and appreciation. He fre- quently visits the Academy of Music, particularly to hear his favorite Beetho- ven Symphonies. From the sublime to the ridiculous: The Kingston Trio, Billy Vaughn, and Ray Coniff are among Jerry ' s light music favorites — he finds the latter two par- ticularly useful for creating a snowy at- mosphere for BMC lovelies. One shouldn ' t think that Jerry ' s sports ac- tivities are confined to the soccer field and basketball court; in the course of four years Jerry has become a master of the indoor sport. He can often be seen on the Lloyd lot compressing his huge frame into the frame of a tiny Simca used for putt-putting to BMC. Jerry Darlington Show me a man who overelaborates, and I ' ll show you a great man! — hlenry Miller Roy David As Howard walked across Railroad Avenue, his jacket, tie and squash rac- ket became less important, hie discard- ed the jacket and tie, except for brief DAVID DE RIS DESHONG The leaves love the air. Ray de Ris excursions to McGillins, and his squash racket was misplaced for two years. During his first two years here the fan- tasy of medicine faded, culminating in a sojourn to the west. Upon returning from the real world, Howard found his squash racket and psychology books. Studying and dating with a purpose, he rounded out his college years in an ef- fort to return well equipped into the business world. Howie Deshong Page 54 Bonnie Brice noisy car loud socks basketball track Bonnie photography Brice School work was important to Pete, but nothing was as important as Bon- nie. Pete ' s love for Bonnie, manifested by Japanese lanterns, pillow fights, na- ture trail walks, lib rary dates, and so on, was no secret to his roommates. Pete ' s devotion to basketball, and the pride he took in his monstrous mad scientist Pete will tell you that he is one of the three or four coolest guys in the world, hie is one of the three or four guys in the world who can honestly make that statement. His friends tried vainly to imitate Pete ' s sly snowman ' s grin; they struggled desperately to match his de- vastating command of the vernacular; they attempted to out-head him with humiliating results; they even tried to emulate the casual insolence with which he wore his dungarees. His contem- poraries finally decided that the cause was hopeless; Pete was the coolest guy in the world. Sometimes, Pete himself did not seem so sure. He could never quite decide just what kind of a life he wanted to lead at Haverford. His restlessness led him from the sciences to the humanities. Athletics were important to him, but he was incapable of the narrow dedication of the jock. He wanted to date, yet did not want to make that his sole pre- occupation. Pete was continually dis- turbed by his inability to find time for all of the experiences he wanted to try. He talked wistfully of his clarinet, of the courses he had missed, and the people . . . so since the paper was due at eleven and I was still on the first page, I thought I ' d better stay up all night; but at midnight I started to get tired, so I went to bed and set the alarm for two. When the alarm went off I just couldn ' t do it, so I reset it for three. Anyway, I got up at eight finally and after breakfast I played three games of ping pong with Smith and a game of chess with Werner and . . . . . . so I started out fast and stayed with Simmons for the first half mile and then my ankle started to get sore and I dropped back. And at the two-mile mark Young started to pass me and I fought him off; but then 1 started think- ing I ' d better be careful of my ankle, sol ... . . . so by this time it was eleven o ' clock and her parents were due at twelve, and I thought I was safe. Well, there was this key turning in the door lock suddenly; and I thought at first I might pretend to be the meter reader, but I didn ' t know the Danish word for meter reader, so I crawled out the win- dow, and it was a three-story drop . . . Steve Et+inger DORWART EDDY ETTINGER apparatus in Sharpless was also no se- cret to his friends. Those who saw through Pete ' s usually care-free and sometimes careless exter- ior sensed a . . . uh . . . well, maybe that ' s why he and Ez got along to- gether. ■ Most Haverford students are changed by their four years here, but not Pete. But then, Pete never was much for growing up . Hopefully, he never will. Pete Dorwart he had not met. It is not clear which direction Pete will eventually choose. In any case, his nature is probably too complicated for real contentment. But it is that quality which will always as- sure him the respect and the affection of those who know him. Pete Eddy Page 55 Sept. JU — Hey, how about a game of bridge! Nov. I I — I challenge you to a game of ping pong! Dec. 10 — It ' s almost sailing time again! Feb. 8 — The Warriors are on TV again! May 2 — hley Pete, I ' m going sailing in Georgia this weekend. Ez was a man who liked to relax be- fore the grind (?). His love of music, manifested through an immense stereo Hey, Rans, let ' s go. It ' s quarter to two. Hurry it up! Yeh, yeh, OK . . . and once again the best laid plans of mice and men fall in- geniously astray . . . perennial president of the 3 o ' clock club . . . yet always gets 8 hours in the rack . . . But Rans, this ' ll make 3 weeks in a row you ' ve missed Linguistics . . . Yeh, well you know I gotta study so I can collect laundry tonight . . . Hey, look at this new book I got today in the EZERMAN FASOLDT FLANDERS set, was no secret to occupants of the rooms adjacent to 103 Leeds. A hard working soccer player and basketball manager, he could always explain why the Haverford teams lost. Underneath his fun-loving exterior, Ez was . . . uh . . . well, anyway, he could be very perceptive, warm and sympa- thetic in his interpersonal relations, but these features were more than made up for by his forgetfulness and procrastina- tion. And Ez never will live down the fact that B. B. ' s urges were seven times as strong as his (at first, anyway). But then, he will never forget, either, the profound change Haverford wrought in him. What hath Haverford wrought? Bob Ezerman bookstore . . . Boy, if I could just spend all my time reading these thi ngs . . . you know . . . Hey, it ' s time to go to wrestling. I ' m gonna work these guys hard today . . . team ' s gotta be in shape . . . Rans, the world traveler, the Fords ' only teamster, always found a way to Lansing, or, well anyplace . . . some- times it was the cycle or maybe the old Caddie . . . but it was always for a longer time than it should have been . . . Heck, these vacations are too short anyway . . . sure Rans . . . After a brief hassle with the likes of Finger et. al, it was Russian . . . The pseudo-academician, quasi-intellectual . . . Yeh, I ' m gonna be a teacher . . . you know, this stuff is real interesting. I could read about it all night . . . Hey Joe, can I have a ride to BMC, Genie and I are gonna study . . . Sure Rans. Only he forgot that test tomorrow . . . Hey Rans, wake up, you ' ve gotta study for this thing . . . Right, right, just give me 15 minutes more, OK? ... I gotta be rested for this thing . . . Heck, I know it anyway . . . Sure Rans . . . like I said . . . the best laid plans go astray . . . Right Bard? . . . Yeh, yeh . . . Rans Fasoldt Musicians, they say, grow to resemble their instruments. Steve, in his every action and utterance certainly personi- fies the cello. Yet Steve and any instru- ment he played would be look-alikes, not because Steve would conform to the instrument, but because it would be shaped by him. That ' s the way he is. Although apparently deferential and maleable, he often reveals a resolute and obstinate core. Obstinate, but not obdurate. His open mind is equally re- ceptive to the romantic and the practi- cal. Within Steve the two coexist hap- pily and productively; but for a political scientist, they do not often make a hap- py life. Both in his work and his life, the interaction of these two produces something resembling a work of art. Idealism disciplined by pragmatism re- sults in the transcendental — Steve ' s ubi- quitous and transcendental giggle, which expresses moods ranging from embarrassment to delight to hilarity. What nonsense! Who. ever heard a cello giggle? But in Steve ' s hands . . . P. S. Liz says I forgot to say what a nice guy he is. Steve Flanders I I ' m a two or three shooter myself. With that remark, Bruce calmly plunked a triple to win the game. He picked up his navy blue jacket, which replaced a more favorite antique — the green and white of MCD — and strode jauntily to the gym where he would assist the Ford basketball team to another victory. After two years spent in Barclay, Bruce emerged as both an English ma- jor and, as he willingly admits, a trend man. Hard luck visited the Quoter again when he was forced to spend two years in Lloyd, hlowever, he was visit- As a treshman terror Joe led the Armpit in its constant battles against hostie forces. Blessed with an excellent ability to seize the moment, he quickly endeared himself to the beleaguered group of Pit warriors. Sophomore year found him entrenched In Barclay once Casually but decisively muttering the familiar words . . . I ' m almost tempted to go to Tenth , Jim flings his plaid scarf over his shoulder, revs the old blue Chevy, and cutting his second class, con- cludes another full day at Haverford. From the wilds of Spanish House and parties in Sixth, the Geds passed his final year in the seclusion of Leeds, resting today amidst an eight semest- ers ' accumulation of half-leafed Poll. Scl. texts, memorials to a history of abortive academic spurts and eleventh hour term papers for Messrs. Diamant and Somers. FOERSTER FR ANKLIN GEDDES ed so often by a Swarthmore — via — Calvin philosophy student (the flaxen haired one) that his junior year found him among the happiest students on campus. In addition to visits from his fair friend, he somehow found time for running the Social Committee, playing basketball, pursuing philosophy interests, and becoming the most avid and ob- noxious rooter for the Pack and J. T.. . . Who kicked the longest field goal in Big Ten history? Pat O ' Day, Wis- consin, 1902! Hee Heel Once again, the Sports Quiz was on. It was a fore- gone conclusion that these meetings would end anywhere from three to four hours later with Bruce the winner. What see we In the crystal ball — the future Bill Brennan . . .? running chain lines for the Packers . . .? chief greens cutter for the Milwaukee C. C. . . .? No, our Mid-West ' s headless-horse- man will, as usual, disappoint us all and be successful. Bruce Foerster again, although elevated to the second floor. Unfortunately, the large majority of his previous neighbors were also pres- ent, and the addition of The Spider spelled impending disaster for the young commando. However, the establishment of friendly relations with an upstate New York women ' s college had a visible so- bering effect on Jef. Accompani ed by a mid-year switch to Lloyd and a suc- cessful assault upon the English depart- ment, this relationship turned Jef into a semi-grind. Junior and Senior years, Jef ' s weekend trips to Vassar made him Ninth Entry ' s only concrete link with the out- side world. Consequently, Jef became the primary advocate of the Thursday- to-Tuesday weekend. This development, however, did not Impair his by now constant grind. Trading concepts be- tween JAL Jr., Edgar and Guy, he man- aged to keep the average high, assuring him admission to med. school. If there must be a moral to this Ford ' s career, it is most certainly the growth of ma- turity through academic discipline. Jef Franklin Frequent forays to Bryn Mawr and Roach and O ' Brien ' s Irish Tea House mixed with occasional and infamous Glee Club trips consumed his more ac- tive hours. Yet, pry beneath that ap- parently carefree form, lying half-buried in the depths of his old red couch, sur- rounded by a low hanging haze of cigar- ette smoke, and one finds a deeply philo- sophic Geds , deftly balancing ideals and reality or expounding upon his greatest love — people. One of the last remaining examples of a dwindling strain of Haverfordlans, he will pass his next few years in law school, and someday, perhaps, he will appear astride a froth- ing stallion, clutching his rifle and a mys- terious masked lady, (with a half-finished New York Times crossword puzzle tuck- ed under his arm), and establish himself dictator of some faraway Latin Ameri- can country. Jim Geddes Page 57 Riding either a white charger or a red Corvette, Loren spread his good cheer indiscriminately between the alumni readers of the News and the girls of Rhoads Hall. Having unmercifully sub- jected the Students ' Council and foot- ball team to his talents as Secretary and freshman halfback, Loren in a few short months worked his way up from reporter to Editor-in-Chief of the News. He brought to that job the boundless en- The Big I. He had the distinction of being the only freshman with a single in the pit . Sophomore year he made it to Second Entry — a year of develop- ment — seldom more than four hours sleep a night; a course in the dynamics of small groups, which was aptly applied in manipulating his unsuspecting room- mates and friends; one semester of studying. Ian was the possessor of the stuff of which all-night grinds are made. His highly moralistic outlook, however, made him ever so reluctant to hand over his much sought-after goodies to needful petitioners. To many he was known as the Shylock of the Dexy trade. The character building qualities of Bohemian life in twenty-two soon gave Banjo-scrugger yeh, but a better mad- rlgalist, Scott knows how to read and read deep, picking out notes in himself (even a mode, but not yet harmonies) shall we call It an introspective, an ele- gant, yes a Christian charm: the best of Riverside of Putney of the Old South, which o.k. mutes much of what passes for spontaneous razzle-dazzle and strident drive but makes for a mellifluence and pleasantness in living, long as the strings hold and are in tune with themselves. Twang. Scott Gillam GfflGLIONE GILBERT GILLAM ergy, creative ingenuity, and utter lack of fact which helped transform the News from a quasi-newspaper to a nondescript organ for venting Loren ' s raving, screaming spleen against Quakers, Alumni and the Administration. TW ' s major has never become clear to the faculty ( Something in American civili- zation like they have at Yale only just for me ). Though himself free from the bot- tle, Loren has acted as local bootlegger of champagne; quite proud of his repu- tation as the loudest voice on campus, he has driven many a Ford to drink thus increasing his trade in champagne. He had made 5 Leeds into a local branch of the N.Y. Public Library with close to 1,000 books . . . none of which he has read. But Loren emerges with qualities which are most Important: a drive to ac- complish anything and everything and a mind open to deny other opinions, an ability to listen to criticism, take it on the chin and return for even more. Loren Shiglione way to gracious living in fifty-two, which Ian somehow managed to turn into a two-man suite for his last two years . His intellectual pragmatism did him little good, for in his Junior year he went the way of all flesh. Her name was Sara, and, just like in the story books, she proved to be the Inspiration theretofore lacking in the Big I ' s life. Not only did he stop smoking, but he also kicked the Dexy habit. His average began to climb so that during his Senior year it looked as though he would probably raise It by twenty points over that obtained his Sophomore year. A late-blooming desire for the tools of understanding led him to switch from Poll. Sci. to Psych at the beginning of his eighth semester at Haverford. The future: hopefully, a job on Capitol Hill and four kids. Ian Gilbert f Once upon a time, a young squire set out to seek his fortune, equipped with a quick wit and a strong right arm. As destiny would have it, the way led to a small cloistered institute of learning. En- chanted by the fair Maid Miriam, he ac- cepted her offer of a pallet in the high towers of Barclay Castle. Finding himself amidst numerous other purposeful squires, he asserted himself by refusing to follow their callow and earthly ways. It takes four years to know them all- The many sides of David Hall. His skill and interests span the pass From rock and roll to English class. He bombs the academic grind And never seems to fall behind. In contrast, he has bridged the span From bongo drums to salad man. Dad, we ' ve discussed your high hon- ors in chemistry before. Perhaps if I ' d tell you something of my ' Haverford Experience ' . . . The first thing which impressed me was a mixer at Bryn Mawr. I returned convinced that there must be better ways than this to amuse myself. I thought I ' d try the Glee Club — the man who gave us our voice tests thought that would be best for me. Then the few minutes they said it would take to be Librarian didn ' t seem very important either. Like nearly everyone else, I de- cided I ' d like to be on the Customs Committee; that wouldn ' t take any time after Classes began. The Octet seemed like a good idea too, and there would only be two short rehearsals a week. I know my Chem. grades were some- thing less than you would like to have GRAMBS HALL HAMMAKER Squires and instructors alike were vic- tims of his verbal thrusts, and many were those who fell before a well thrown crust. Even close association with several friends — Sir Alan the Articulate, Count Lawrence the Learned, Daniel the Swift- of-Foot, and a pet cat named Tom — failed to leave much of a mark on the young squire. His chivalry keyed to the highest pitch, he forsook the machina- tions of the wench Janet to swear puri- tanical devotion to the oriental princess Nancy. Finally disillusioned with the pur- suit of Friendy education, our young squire left to join a crusade against the barbarians, in the service of the king. Leaving behind only the impression that here was a youth whose destiny included great things — if he so desired. Jeff Grambs And though she never quite was seen. His mystery girl must have been keen, For rain or shine he ' d make a flight To Lankenau come Friday night. This balancing of work and play Has made four years a pleasant stay. And if the choice were granted him. He ' d want to do it all again. Dave Hall Page 59 seen. I majored in psychology, though, partly because they only required a few ' core ' courses: that way, they said, I could ' broaden myself. ' Then there were those roommates I had — real winners, they were. One was elected President of the Orchestra and, when someone in his underground found out about my trombone, there were sud- denly Brass Choir and Orchestra re- hearsals — but of course these were go- ing to be short and wouldn ' t interfere. When another roommate became chair- man of the Class Night Committee and assured me that only a couple of minutes would be necessary occasionally, I found myself the Committee secretary. Well, that ' s how it ail started. They always told me, though, that grades weren ' t really very important. You can see that, can ' t you Dad? . . . Dad? . . . Wayne Hammaker What kind of a person was Rog? One of his favorite authors has written, Notre personalite sociale est une crea- tion de la pensee des autres. Others saw in Rog an individual who ignored the academic pressures that most of his contemporaries were forced to take more or less seriously. They listened respectfully as in languid tones he asked out yet another girl from Bryn Mawr. They talked with him about common problems, appreciated his insight, but were aware that he himself was reluctant to surrended his position of remoteness and self-sufficiency. They observed all of these things, yet, in the final analysis, had to conceed that the real Rog had somehow escaped them. No one ever really understood the mechanics of his own private world. His ultimate destination? Rog him- self is among the curious. There are some Please do not disturb says the sign on the door to his bedroom — the humble home of the Great White Panda. Although few hiaverfordians can boast of a similar affinity for sleep, John has still had plenty of time for numerous activities, ranging from managing various athletic teams and rewiring HARTMAN HERZEL HEUSS Our revels now are ended: these our actors. As I foretold you, were all spirits, and Are melted into air, into thin air: And, like the baseless fabric of this vision The cloud-capp ' d towers, the gorgeous palaces. The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve. And like this insubstantial pageant faded. Leave not a rack behind: We are such stuff As dreams are made of, and our little life Is rounded with a sleep. — The Tempest, IV, i Ed Hartman clues. He wrote frequently for Class Night, for Arts Night, and for his own satisfaction. He viewed experience with a genuine curiosity, an eye for the in- congruous or the ironic. He possessed wit and a graceful style. He had com- mitted himself to no certain line of be- havior save that of seeing and under- standing his surroundings as precisely as he could. Thus in writing Rog has found an activity which he enjoys and which takes advantage of his special talents. The unformed nature of his personality is here an advantage. He stands ready to experience and to learn. Perhaps he will create a Swann of his own. Roger Herzel Page 60 WHRC to organizing the P.D.O. ' s of 92 Lloyd. Nor can we overlook his accurate right arm in the dining room (his fine hurling record earned him two bonus weeks eating off-campus) or his bunny- hopping through the library one memor- able Saturday night. But despite all the merrymaking John devoted many waking hours, and some sleeping ones, in the inner sanctuaries of Whitall, appeasing the omnipotent spirits of the Economics department. As one of the original Sold Dust Twins, he came up with some concepts as startling and profound as any derived by Keynes or Mill. Spring is rapidly approaching, and soon. Panda, you must leave your shel- tered lair. Haverford has prepared you for the world, let us hope that the world IS prepared for you ,1 John Heuss HILLIARD Kirk had one serious motivation at Haverford — getting into medical school. I may flunk out of this place, but I ' ll do it as a pre-med. With that, however, his seriousness gave way. All his other myriad interests were strictly extra-curricular. The most consuming of these: the opposite sex. Do you think I can list ' Girls ' as a hobby on this Medi- cal School Application? hie was a ladies man, a skirt chaser, a lover of all womankind too enamoured with the fair sex collectively to ever love just one. And if he wasn ' t the greatest stu- dent these ivy halls have seen, we will choose to recall his other talents. For In my house I tend two fires. One I use for warmth. The other I use to burn trash. The latter never keeps me warm, even though I burn far more trash than Sid has become a shadowy figure at Haverford, not having lived on campus for three years. After two years here, one as sage of North Barclay and one as executive of the local Woolwo rth Movement, he disappeared for Powelton Village in Philadelphia, a community he adopted as his own. hlis nominal return from his new home a year later was only a partial one, for one of the spoils of war in the Woolworth action was his Bryn Mawr opposite number. Having follow- ed him to Powelton, she has now lured A HILTEBEITEL HOLLANDER who could surpass his prowess at the dart board, or kill more ducks? Who else could tell a story and supply his own laughter, or moan and groan so sensuous- ly in sleep that we ' d have to check for fear he ' d not returned his last night ' s date to Bryn Mawr? Fond memories we hold of Fat Charlie. It ' s not with minor interest that we ' ll watch his subseqjent career. If we should prophesize correctly, the years will see him a wealthy doctor, a confirmed bachelor, and a lovable Uncle Fat Charlie to all our children. Kirlc Hilliard wood. I am not sure why. The smoke is- sues separately from two chimneys. The wind blows it, the two streams, now far apart, but now together, mingled to vanish. Alf Hiltebeitel him from the campus entirely, except for classes, visits to the library, and occasi- onal bull sessions with other refugees from the class of ' 62. Sid ' s gentle man- ner and deliberate speech hide strong beliefs; he maintains the political and social concern of a true reformer, and he is a vociferous defender of the under- dog. His devotion to redressing the evils and iniquities of the world should leave it the better for his influence. S!d Hollander Page 61 HUNT I felt sure George was going to turn out to be a regular Casper Mllktoast . . . He kept saying ' Geez, guys, ' and when they asked him on a camp counselor ap- plication what he was an expert in, he wrote snakes . . . But you know, he never was cut out to be a wimp. Gullible George, vender of second hand books, in three years managed to dispose of Dave ' s first year and a half at hlaver- In the fall of ' 59 the numbers of the ford were not particularly conspicuous Haverford Zoo were increased by the to the college at large, hie did what was addition of hlarry the Rat from the land required of him, and did it adequately of the Blackfeet. hiaving been placed in at worst, but partial performances never HOUSTON HOUSTONA JOHNS four roommates (two went to India, one to Sweden and the last became a day student), hte followed this by purchasing a green bomb (appropriately enough a Ford), and, in the summer before his senior year, by marrying beautiful (of the wolf whistle variety), brainy (Phi Beta Kappa Cornell graduate) Jean. Latin jock George hopes to join her next year at Penn as Concert ' s gift to the classics. But hHaverfordians are anxiously wondering what will happen to the penny-hunting ( Anybody got a 1914- D ), toe-fighting business manager who put the News back on its feet. Though his business acumen will probably suc- cumb to a serious interest in archeology, and his tee shirt and moccasins have al- ready been replaced by a tweed jacket and repp ties, the essential elements re- main. A conscientious nature, a disarm- ing laugh, a way with people, an amaz- ing exuberance. George Houston the cage with all the potential great ath- letes, he disappointed the superinten- dent by joining the ranks of various in- tramural squads. With his ready wit and Joe College savoir vivre, he quickly earn- ed the alias of Fat Socialite. However, his true nature as a rat was ever present in his constant baiting of those with little resistance and incessant dumping on all with whom he came in contact. His phenomenal skill in getting through his various courses with a minimum of effort was aided greatly during the Year of the Plagues by the sympathetic treat- ment given him by his trainers. An ap- peal ' to the Humane Society on the grounds that there was surely a place in the legal profession for such a crea- ture, since it harbors all sorts of strange beasts, resulted in his transfer to law school. He was last seen gnawing ab- sently on a piece of sheepskin clutched firmly in his little girlish hands while simultaneously playing a game of Gin with his monkey-like feet. John Houston brought him satisfaction. His nature would allow him neither the wastefulness nor the indignity of making an endeavor without excelling; the instances in which he was not preeminent, infrequent though they were, brought Dave keen disappointment. Three semesters of doubt were sufficient; his scholarly superiority since then has been notori- ous. However, Dave was not about to join the Disappearing Multitude — that segment of Haverford humanity seen only at mealtimes and on the classroom- to-library paths. He played golf, soccer, intramural basketball, and plenty of bridge. Junior year he introduced Room Football (you remove all the furniture from a room, then play tackle football) and wrote the best feature and sports articles to appear in the News. As a senior he relaxed by applying for fellow- ships, plotting the adventures of the Green Gnad, and sitting up late at night discussing sex, religion, love, and the world. Meanwhile the gang enjoyed the best home made pies, cookies, cinnamon bread, and apple tarts this side of Rochester. Dave will be remembered as one with a remarkable insight into the complexi- ties of his own life and others ' , and most of all as a whole man and a true friend. Dave Hunt Paqe 62 Even if we restrict our observations, we see that Steve still resembles a large category, thus making him somewhat dif- ficult to work with. Let us say that X belongs to Johnson if by some means X may be construed to be a facet of his personality, and that Hom(X,Y) = PXY. Now there exists a functor T: Johnson — Rings such that T(math) = 77, T (music) 70, T(psychology) 70, Hey Ru, where ' s Greg? I don ' t know — Did you check the bag? Well, how about the hook chair? Did you check Bollas ' office? What about Roy ' s office, or maybe Ernie ' s? No? Maybe he ' s shooting a few baskets ON JOHNSON KANNERSTEIN ' All men can ' t be scholars, but all mer can be gentlemen. John lived up to the above motto, at least in part. While negotiating the aca- demic obstacle course (not without dif- ficulty) he found time to engage in his extra-curricular vocations and avoca- tions. The former included a two-year stint as director of the Information Of- fice sports bureau which required him to compile the gory statistics on Haver- ford ' s football juggernaut. He also aided Jim Foster in dispensing quality pro- ducts in the Coop, managing with it all to pay his own way for four years. His avocation included an efficient job as manager of the tennis team. When not on campus, John could usually be found in New York City, attending either a play or a hockey game, or in Philadel- phia at McGillin ' s Ale House. To those who knew him, his indescrib- able laugh, his uninhibited candidness and his slow, slow walk were trademarks. A career in advertising looms big in the future. John Johnson T(die Madchens) = 84, T(computors) 77, T(das Deutschtum) = 70, T(frisbee) = 89, T(cybernetics) = 63, T(Renais- sance recorders) =;; 70, T(Paul Good- man) = 70, etc. Notice that T(Johnson) is a prime ideal in R, a fact which has its own peculiar significance. Since Steve is so complex, we are unable to find an adjoint functor to T. Indeed we suspect that our whole analysis is imperfect, and that T(X) = 49, for all X belonging to Johnson. This uncertainty is partly a function of the numbers of hours of de- privation of sleep. The one thing of which we are certain is that in his years here, Steve ' s scholarship, creativity, and personality have crystallized far enough that his life work will most probably be fruitful and worthy of the traditions Haverford fosters. Steve Johnson pap( hous m the gym. He could be down in the batting cage. No? I don ' t think he went to the Palestra today — Hey, did you check Stu ' s room? How about Benj ' s room? Maybe he ' s in the coop. No? He could be in Ardmore buying a few news- pers. Maybe he ' s at Jack Lester ' s se? No? Well look, I hate to send you on a wild goose chase, but you might just check the library. He does have a paper due tomorrow. Okay Ru. I guess I ' ll have to wait till tomorrow to find him. A mass of college newspapers stirs, and from beneath appears the Boxcar. He heads for Ralph Sargent ' s office to explain his plans for a career in English linguistics — or is it philology? From there he hurries back to the room to tap out another sports masterpiece for the Main Line Times. His thoughts turn toward his true desire — a career with the New York Mets, as a pinch hitter. And finally, sufficiently confused about his future, the Car returns to his na- tural habitat, the bag. Greg Kannerstein Page 63 This is the Buc, this is the reticent Bucco. Originally famed at Haverford only for his unyielding devotion to the Pittsburgh Pirates, Bill, during his last two years at college, became known also as both an excellent student and an ex- tremely amusing fellow. Bill ' s unique, imitative abilities always draw gales of laughter from his friends, even when, as is often the case, they themselves are the butts of his good-natured humor; his normally stolid, scowling countenance breaks into a wide grin at the slightest provocation during the inevitable bull sessions over coffee in the dining room. When the postprandial ritual is over, Bill is certain to saunter back to the chemistry building, where he is conduct- ing a mysterious alchemical project which nobody understands; normally, in fact, he studies industriously all day long. During the fall, however. Bill breaks his academic routine several times a week in order to batter a few linemen of an opposing intramural football team, while on spring afternoons he is to be found Passionate zeal for the principles of physics and scientific thought best epi- tomizes his hlaverford career. In fact, Roger has been a more constant occu- pant of Sharpless than most of his pro- fessors. He is quite a spectacle charging back and forth throughout the night on his green chariot. In his sophomore year. KELLEY KOHN behind the football field, putting the shot and hurling the discus. And every morning, regardless, the familiar hulking figure skulks up from Leeds for breakfast. Thus, steady and dependable, but al- ways ready and willing to laugh, Bill spent his years at Haverford. Bill Kelley he spent hours in the Sharpless labs struggling with the obstinate O-rings of a vexing vacuum system — and all for nothing. Now busily working on his senior project, which his professors doubt is In keeping with the ideals of funda- mental research, Roger is building a LASER (appropriately pronounced like razor). Even so, he realizes that this pro- ject is only one step in the search for the philosopher ' s stone. Roger Kohn Pete Lary LARY In spite of the fact that long, tall Geoff only lived on cannpus his senior year after a three-year residence at the Hetzel ' s, he was widely recognized by his campus-bound classmates. But the people who knew Geoff the best were the dining hall waiters. Where ' s Geoff? Check the dining hall. But lunch was over an hour ago. Well, he ' s probably about ready to leave by now. Good old Geoff was a slow eater with- out parallel, preferring to spend his time talking rather than sampling Ma Nugie ' s culinary artifacts. Geoff had a variety of extra-curri- cular activities. The Glee Club was taller and deeper for four years because of our Reese-trained bass; the fencing team was impeccably managed; and the in- tramural Softball league yielded to the Friendly persuasion of our Quaker arbi- ter. But Geoff ' s favorite extra-curricular activity was the Tri-College Coordinat- ing Committee. He coordinated, all right. (It was rumored by a few disap- pointed Bryn Mawrters that Geoff — having surveyed the Bryn Mawr scene — was attempting to inaugurate free trans- portation to the greener pastures of Swarthmore. A certain girl at Swarth- more supports this view.) Bernie (or Dov, as he lets himself be called by those he chooses for friends) is one hard nut to crack. But under that mustachio shell there ' s the meet of the dicotyledon man: of Chassidic lineage and American lingo, of sweet beat jive and strong square drive; the poetic and One has had frequent opportunities to observe Tigger — a very bouncy animal — both in oscillation and pen- sive at rest. Yearbook writing Is the mo- ment when one seeks the unifying gen- eralization — the words that will reduce a classmate to some square inches of grey type, like a prehistoric insect in amber. For Andy, such a process would be deceptive. To call him a chamelon, on the other hand, is insulting; flexible, insidious; and vacillating, untrue. Peer- group directed he has been, but he has also contributed a bit of a something to his peers so that he is affectionately, but also curiously regarded. Something of Pooh Is fading from Haverford — Andy ' s departure is part of that quixotic fading. Andy Lehner LAWN LEDERBERG LEHNER Imbibing chemistry for four years, Geoff chose Russian at Bryn Mawr (Swarthmore on week-ends) as a chaser. With typical disdain for worldly treas- ures, Geoff will continue in chemistry, and then enter the poverty-stricken ranks of the college chemistry professors. Geoff Lawn the bathetic, nostalgic and neuralgic, in- ner morose and crafty bellicose, arro- gance and fear, fool and seer. Man if this boy ever gets himself planted in fertile soil (will it be Israel?) he ' s gonna grow places, busting out and up, flaming flowers and April showers of prose and dustjackets. And we ' ll be watching this Dov this honk this great goose of a guy beginning to flap his heavy dadallan winks over the mistic swamp. Make it, man. hHe ' s gonna make it, we ' ll shout watching from the blind. Bernie Lederberg Are you fit? ' from Robert Barclay ' s Apology Dave Leonard Doctor, four years on the Haverford couch have done a lot for me. It all be- gan when I dreamed that an apparition of pure intellect swept me from that wonderful town and dropped me Into a laboratory full of bacteria and biastulas. The scene soon shifted, however, and I found myself Santering out and climbing the stairs to the third floor, and at this level of self-discovery the atmosphere at last began to clear a little. hHowever, the Chicago regressions foiled my at- tempts at repression and although I found temporary wish fulfillment, Penn- sylvania Bell ' s suppression soon brought total depression. To compound my com- plexes, when the song In my heart forced me to get Buzzy off my back, I emerged to find Reese on my tail. My super-ego indulging In musical phantasmagoria, I went from Brahms to Sousa, from class When Stu was a freshman, someone asked him at a party What grade are you in, sonny? Now he ' s a senior . . . One hamburger platter. Stu . . . Ready for the game with the Juniors today? We gotta be tough like OSU! I can ' t believe how tough that Big 10 Is! Don ' t you ever think about anything but football? Hey! Look at this! My first Issue of Track and Field News! After four months! Hey, a new diet! Gotta go to that health food store in Ardmore and buy some wheat germ! But what am 1 gonna do? The little old lady down there said no more bread sandwiches. LEONARD LEVI LEVITT LIES night to octet, from bass drum to snare and back to bass again. Meanwhile Heath kept telling me It was all In my head, and Kosman said it was In the mind of God, while I kept wishing it were all someplace else — like In my arms. But at last I realized This Can ' t Be Love so I worked out a new arrange- ment. Fully fortified with Fresser and Freud and with my dreams interpreted, I hear the call of Chicago once more. Bill Levi Page 66 How ' s physics? Williamson gave me an out. I ' m do- ing a project on a mental hospital. What? You can ' t believe how cool that mental hospital Is! I really suck up this Deviant! I gotta borrow a bike to go down there! ' What ' s up tonight? Well, there ' s a Moore party In Leeds ' singles. But I got a date with this babe from Radnor High. Then I gotta go to the llbe for some Borton reading. And I have to do those isometric exercises! Gimme some French fries! What about next year? How can those Med schools be so narrow-minded. All they want are guys with 90 ' s in Organic. 1 could always teach Soc. and coach track. Then there ' s Albuquerque . . . the NCAA meet! ' 64 . . . Tokyo . . . the Olympics! ' 65 . . . Tel Aviv . . . the Maccabbean Games! Stu Levitt F Almost daily a black ThunderbTrd races down Montgomery Avenue en route to Bryn Mawr. It ' s Jack on the way to one of his innumerable courses at that great institute of learning. For Jack found, after sampling Haverford ' s intel- Corky came to hiaverford quietly, un- heralded by the reports of former laurels which accompany so many freshmen who never quite live up to their advance billing. Cork did everything at Haver- ford unobtrusively, but his teachers, classmates, and close friends gradually came to respect and admire him the more for his unassuming excellence, hlis abilities as a student were so obvious that several departments invited him to consider majoring in their field, and his qualities as a person soon became evi- dent to those with whom he let down a portion of his customary reserve. Cork did nothing as a matter of course. Hav- ing had a taste of what the study of literature could be under Mr. Harper, he decided to become an English major. Similarly he was not to be drawn into facile friendships; his warm and ready Jim MacRae VELD LIPEZ MACRAE MARG lectual offerings, that math was too regi- mented, economics too exacting, and so he settled on Russian as a potential career. A person of violent opinions, Jack is diametrically opposed to sports, but mustered the interest tQ take up skating seriously. Frequent trips to cul- tural events do not indicate a home of cultural barrenness, for everything IS up to date in Kansas City (Mo.). Witness Jack ' s perpetual propriety and neatness (have you ever seen one hair out of place?), his genial friendliness, and his effervescent manner, and you have some idea of his character. Ever ready with the apropos phrase, Jack is an ardent conversationalist. All these qualities lead to a possible future in Russian studies as a translator, teacher or diplomat. But the charms of urban Capitalism may yet win out, with the resulting sign hanging over a florist ' s establishment: Liesveld ' s — Kansas City, Paris, London, New York. Jack Llesveld smile was never flashed indiscriminately. A versatile, graceful, and powerful athlete, Cork could never decide whether to devote his spring afternoons to tennis, baseball, or golf, but this in- decision is notable only in that it is so uncharacteristic. He heads for law school with some reservations, but anyone who knows him finds such uncertainty but a grace note which accentuates the more fundamental harmony between Cork and a career in law. Here he can apply his incisive intellect and firm adherence to principle; the stern exterior and the veil- ed sensitivity which mark Cork would be nowhere more in place than on a judge ' s bench. Corky Lipei Page 67 V He B B H A column H B H From a corpse-laden B H Evidence to the 4:00 AM wa Their deadness warns of the mo Of the family Anatidae, John D. is rising, best known by a nickname derived from For still th his middle Initial. As hlaverford ' s own 3rd layer Organization Man (substituting tweed Of multl-llngual clutter. ke. reow ' s lies open on the desk ' s - - - 60 hours per week in chem lab, 20 hours a week for classics and biology, 50 hours for sleeping, 3 hours for glee club, 3 hours for sports, 3 for church, 2 for Collection and Meeting, 10 hours for eating, and 10 hours for bathing, shaving, etc. this leaves me 7 hours a week for dates and goofing off! Thus was the dire forecast for a senior chem- istry student. Soon John ' s aversion to organization reduced this work load in his schedule by a factor of ten, delegat- ing hours to such unorthodox activities as twisting to his own voice in a reson- ant Leeds bathroom, amassing such use- ful statistics as the number of Volkswag- ens the entire population of the world OLIS MARUYAMA McCONAGH for gray flannel artd the Valley Daily News for the N. Y. Times), he instilled In the Customs Committee much of the Rogerlan concern and enthusiasm which a duck shows for her ducklings, as well she (he?) might. Never losing sight of the importance of productive pedantry and the academic life (in Ford language he is admittedly a semi-grind), John cut loose as News managing editor and sen- ior Council representative but left the wine, women and song to others. One might say he brought to Council a Bu- berlan-Sallngeresque philosophy, affec- tionately termed Margoliseanism, ie., But what will It do for his own personal development? Devoted to the world of acadennic qua academla, John undoubit- edly will bring to the classroom the kind of enthusiasm and meaningful confron- tation which makes a good teacher great. John Margolis He turns to question And a quick reply brings A slap on the knee and A burst of soft laughter. So Japanese. could lift In one day, and a philosophic contemplation of his celling. John ' s fame lies in many things: his agility at the piano. In the classroom, and above the dance floor; his uncanny ability to enter Shunji Maruyama breakfast at 8:29:55; his crinkled pants; his moose laugh; and his nickname Runt , which has stuck with him despite his phenomenal six-inch growth during freshman year. hHe can usually be found dancing among the sulfur fumes of the local lab. John McConaghy Page 68 the Vicmead Hunt. This Is a typica weekend, when la chasse (after foxes, that is) takes our horseman over post and rail of the Maryland countryside. If Bill isn ' t astride his favorite mount, he ' s anticipating the coming weekend when either a hunt or a horse show will lure him away from more academic pursuits. Academic pursuits for BiJI are to be The first sight one meets when enter- ing the library on a Wednesday night is the curly head of Bob Miller, bent assi- duously over the latest historiography The chemistry lab, the library staff room, Cletus Oakley ' s office, the com- puter room or perhaps the 2nd floor of Roberts Hall are campus locations where one might find Paul Meyer. Having ful- filled the forty course requirement for graduation, with the exception of his 100 course, by the end of his seventh semes- ter at Haverford, he worked at Penn Mutual Life Insurance Company in Phila- delphia during the 2nd semester of his senior year. Living with a Sociologist and two Political Scientists for three years, Paul was constantly called upon to defend the relative merits of mathe- matics, his major field of study. During his four years at Haverford, Paul was a | member of the Glee Club and a spark- plug of the class intramural soccer team. I ' m freezing, who left the window Y MECHLING MILLER MOYER found on third floor Sharpless, i.e., the biology lab. Here Is spent practically every daylight hour of our horseman ' s life at Haverford. One exception: when equestrian Bill takes over the ro le d ' escrimeur as star fencer on the Haver- ford Fencing Team [a fencer, who, as a junior, placed fourth in the Middle At- lantic Conference). The future? — des- tined to hold a spot for Bill on the United States Equestrian Team and of course as gentleman farmer and seigneur of Bohemia Manor Stables. Bill Mechling assignment. Distinctive in his outgoing friendliness, he arrived four years ago with two things: an overwhelming pride in his native Tallahassee climate, and a great interest In music. To these have been added a third, a desire to study medicine, a decision which caused a violent reshuffling of his junior year courses. Bob ' s attributes are versatile, along with his overwhelming generosity, he is known for his amazing fleetness of foot. In four years of college life he has never once walked up a flight of stairs, and more than once he has covered an entire flight in a single bound. This gave him such exercise, since running up to third floor Barclay for two years, and third floor Yarnall for one year is no easy job. A senior year in Leeds has eased the load on Bob, and it is hoped by the time he graduates, he will be fully recovered. Bob Miller- open? Gotta get up for breakfast this morning, it ' s French toast morning. Wake me before you go to dinner. are all characteristic statements of the genial (provided you don ' t bother him immediately after the alarm has sound- ed in the morning) operator of the Col- lege mimeograph concession. A box filled with letters postmarked Annville, Pa., frequent weekend visits to Lebanon Valley College carrying a suitcase pack- ed as only Paul Moyer could pack it, and large phone bills summarize his social life. Future plans call for a career in medicine. Paul Moyer Page 69 Excerpts from Dr. Noell ' s testimony before Congress concerning the pend- ing Medicare Legislation. I have no personal interest in the pending legislation, shouted Noell in answer to Senator Smith ' s inquiry. Money means nothing to me! We in the Buffalo chapter of the AMA place little value on material objects. Why only two of our members have XKE ' s! When it was pointed out, however, by the physiocratic Senator from Pennsyl- vania that the two remaining members, while not having XKE ' s, owned 17 Volks- wagens between them, Herr Noell broke into a spasm of violent coughing. Dr. Noell finally recovered sufficiently to light a cigarette only to break into another fit of coughing. I own five TV sets, answered Dr. Noell. The Senator raised an eyebrow, but Noell hastened to add that four were gifts from his father-in-law . . . RAVING Once upon a midnight dreary, while he pondered, weak and weary. O ' er many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore — While he nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping. As of Ballantine ' s de-capping, lapping at his conscience door — Gazing at his books he muttered, with thirsty throat and tongue he stuttered. Quoth Bob Nolte, Nevermore. So he turned to arts performing; laurel leaves his pate adorning. Shifted he to sport athletic — both the gridiron and hard floor; Interest waning, these disdaining, saw pedantry his world profaning. And, the soul of wit disclaiming, became the Fork-Tongued Orator; But could his search be satisfied? Would e ' re this soul be gratified? Quoth Bob Nolte, Nevermore. Turned he then to Green Bay County, where didst find his Fair-hHaired Bounty Peter ' s most stri king characteristic was the bubbling wit and brilliant satire which he displayed in social gatherings. This humor revealed a sharp, quick mind and a shrewd judge of character. Outside of biology, Peter had the far-ranging interests of an avid reader and a curious student. He explored the interior castle with Douglas Steere and was cut in on the world of Eckhart. hie learned a smattering of bad Japan- ese and developed an interest in the Far East and a desire to spend some time there as a doctor. In music, sit- ting at the feet of hiaverford ' s hiande lian, Hans drank in the glories of the Baroque and the powerful drama of Verdi ' s opera. A summer of the Ex- periment in Germany increased his in- terest in the history, language, and cul- ture of that country. Many hours were spent during senior year dealing with whirly machines and rabbits (Norberg bunnies 1-6; 2 and 3 passed to their reward) or with class finances and radio equipment. Peter had an interest in the prob- lems of others and was often ready to do something practical about them. The experiences of several summers spent in hospital work gave him an un- NOELL NOLTE NORBERG Nj When asked his reason for joining the medical profession, Noell answered that he had always thought that or- ganic chemistry was basically fun. Be- fore he could elaborate on this, Dr. Noell received an urgent note. Turning to the gallery, Noell nodded meekly to a small woman perched on a thick tele- phone directory. Realizing her posi- tion instantly. Dr. Noell requested that a second directory be given his wife. Tom Noell Umbrella Bobby ' s staunchest rooter aspires too to be a tutor; Tall, bald, suave and tweedy, he says of conjugal felicity — Having found Nirvana therefore, call I this my why and wherefore. Has he now his raison d ' etre, as a noble man of letter? Quoth he simply, Evermore. Bob Nolle derstanding of what pain and serious illness could do to people and how they faced it. At the same time, he became aware of the discipline, self-sacrifice, and endurance demanded by the medi- cal profession. His interest in biology and in tending others should make him a fine doctor. Pete Norberg Take a look ' round his room. Ernest (Gray Man) Northrup shows signs of the Greek ideal, the search for physi- cal and intellectual excellence: The 8 X 10 photo of Ern decked out in Ford football finery representing three years of front line action. The framed words Arma Virumque Cano . . . symboliz- ing five years of Latin study. The dis- cus and the motorcycle helmet on the bookshelf (the new BSA sits out in the shed behind Founders). The clipping on the wall from the N. Y. Times, Any- body For the Wobble? , illustrating the latest fads in rock ' n ' roll. ( Can ' t see that classical stuff . . . anybody want to buy my ticket to the Janis concert? ). The stack of 45 ' s ready for his Tuesday night WhIRC broadcast. The row of econ books on the shelf and the copy of Newsprint Paper Industry on his desk, sure signs of an economics major. But where will it all lead? Will he ac- cept the tryout offer from the Winnipeg Blue Bombers? How about business school? Maybe the life of a poet? A man of many possibilities, quietly cap- able of demonstrating his talents in whatever he chooses. Ernie Northrup Bill Phillips Emerging from his icy lair with auai- ble protestation, the Bird trudges down the hall, infamous brush in hand, and furtively glides into the shower for his half-hour ritual. Struggling out, F. H. Pollard is ready to face another arduous day of hlaverford life. After his usual voluminous breakfast, the Bird makes his customary fruitless foray to the mail box, ostensibly hoping for news of the latest uranium mine or holding company which is misusing his funds. After an unproductive search he groans and begins the long trek to Leeds. Thus, one hour after arising, Frank is back in his customary position of repose. However, the Bird ' s contemplation is rudely interrupted later in the morning by academic obligations. After an ex- hausting hour of trenchant literary cri- ticism, F. H. emerges from class and heads for the dining room undaunted by his noisome experience. Frank ' s afternoons are efficiently utilized as he sleeps in the darkroom of the Tandem Building at Penn while at- tempting to wrest funds from the Na- tional Science Foundation for his par- ticipation in Physics 81 (also known as Advanced Sloth 81). He emerges from the darkroom to elicit voluminous praise from Mrs. Selove whom he has duped again and returns from this advance- ment of the frontiers of science just in time to miss cross-country practice, but not the after-practice cocktail hour in 29 Leeds. Frank, a mathematical prodigy, de- votes his early evening hours to a study of the mathematics of probability as exemplified by gin and bridge. Finally at nine o ' clock the Bird, beaten yet pleased with the day ' s accomplish- ments, reviews his victories over a glass of wine. Frank Pollard ORTHRUP PHILLIPS POLLARD Pago 71 I. Powers ist alles, was die Philosophie ist. 1 .0 1 . Das, was die Philosophie nicht ist, das lasst Powers llegen. 1.02. Die Philosophie ist alles. 1 .02 I . Powers ist alles. I.I. Die Liebe besiegt alles. I.I I. Die Liebe besiegt Powers. 2. Wir machen uns Bilder von Powers. 2.01. Die unter Desjardins, der Leicht- athletik, der Religion und des Sexes bestehende Dialektik kann nur dann aufgelost werden, indem man etwas aufgibt. 2.02. Wer nichts aufgeben kann, der muss ein dialektisches Leben fuhren. 2.03. Es ware dem Powers unmoglich, irgend etwas davon aufzugeben. 2.1. Wer diese albernen Satze uber- windet und sie nicht einmal liest, der sieht Powers richtig. To those students who knew only his stern features and decisive stride, who saw him only as the versatile performer, Spence must have seemed an aloof, im- posing figure. They knew him as the superb athlete who distinguished him- self in soccer and tennis, or as the ef- ficient, ruthless waiter who could make lingering diriers miserable. Perhaps they heard of the slyness which drained the school ' s payroll, and which estab- lished him as one of the school ' s fine bridge players. And no doubt they had been told how he confidently roamed the halls of Bryn Mawr, drawn instinct- ively to attractive, affectionate girls. But for Spence ' s group of intimates, it was a personality, as well as a perform- er, that demanded respect. Though he occasionally found the About halfway through his freshman year, Arnold, a loquacious economics major, discovered that his work input would achieve the greatest marginal efficiency in the library. He promptly moved there and must have attained his general equilibrium, for he has tend- ed to remain ever since. As a result, his grades have been monotonically in- creasing: but because of his propensity to gossip with whoever is foolish enough to listen, those of his carrel neighbors have been steadily decreasing. Yet like all good hiaverford students, he occa- sionally emerged from the library to serve his fellow man. Arnold was Chief Big Brother, and as part of his duties could be seen indoctrinating gullible sub-freshmen in the virtues of Haver- ford. During the summer, Arnold is POWERS QUILL QUINT I. Powers is everything that philo- sophy is. 1.0 1. What philosophy is not, Powers does not touch. 1.02. Philosophy is everything. 1 .02 I . Powers is everything. I.I. Love conquers everything. 1 . I I . Love conquers Powers. 2. We make to otirselves pictures of Powers. 2.01. The dialectic which exists among Desjardins, track, religion, and sex can be resolved only when one gives some- thing up. 2.02. He who can give up nothing leads a dialectical life. 2.03. It would be impossible for Pow- ers to give up anything. 2.1. He who transcends these inane propositions and does not even read them, he sees Powers aright. Chuck Powers academic load threatening, Spence per- sisted, never wasting his energy in fruit- less resentment. It was evident that his college experiences had forced a pain- ful reassessment of values, aspirations, and attitudes. But Spence, evolving quietly, reflectively, groped with his problems alone, refusing to impose his melancholy on his friends. With them he was always warm, spontaneous, witty, contributing generously to those lighter moments that made Haverford life tol- erable. And most Impressive of all, he functioned comfortably with these friends without ever losing his identity. One always sensed in him, but never re- sented, a fundamental reserve, an in- triguing remoteness, that characterizes the substantial personality. Self-pos- sessed but not aloof, disciplined but never dull, Spence always commanded respect and affection. Spence Quill Haverford ' s representative to the Ken- nedy bralntrust. There, when he is not advising Walter Heller on fiscal policy, he can be found counting paper clips in an office in the United States De- partment of Commerce. The future will surely find Arnold Investing in Broadway musicals the money that he will make off The Market, and, if past performance In this matter Is any indi- cation of future potential, losing it all. Arnie Quini ' i El Fuego Rocco, Chestnut Hill Academy ' s delegate to the Haverford picnic, came with an outlook on life that was infinitely optimistic, yet very casual. One mad autumn in 1959 a courtesy car from the Raach Ford Agency pulled up in front of Barclay Hall, and Fred emerged casually dress- ed, carrying a weekend case and ready to see what Haverford would do for him. As one of the Bards of Barclay noted in the early minutes of the game, That kid ain ' t gonna last! Fred, how- ever, defied the prediction of the ex- There ' s only one guy around here who has a baseball with handles and a cow- boy hat from Heidelberg and a .22 that ' s broken down, probably never to be reassembled. He ' s the guy whose head looks like a stop-light full of teeth most of the time except on Sunday morning when it ' s slightly tinted like a go-light. He ' s the guy who runs like an ostrich with knock-knees but some- how manages to score. He ' s the guy who can break up an audience with nothing but a chair, a table, a Life magazine, and little moronic laughter. He ' s the guy who disappears in the mid- dle of a party and shows up disgustingly sober three hours later. He likes Twain How does John love Handel? Let ' s count the ways. Music majors are few at Haverford and John is one of those rare pheno- mena. In general music, and specifi- cally, Handel, are the centers of John ' s attention. Although he enjoys history, philosophy, and theological speculation, his primary interest remains music. At times It would seem that he relates everything to it. To the amazement of all, John has been known to relate even biology to music, as in his memorable paper for a biology course entitled The Evolution of Music. He tends to favor musicology over performing, but he has at times been seen conducting the Schutz Choir or his own KInderchoir. He has begun to develop a set of man- nerisms, a style, which sets him off as a man of music. This style Is hard to describe. It is RAACH RIGGAN ROBERTS perts, proved the value of the relaxed approach, and stayed. By a process of elimination and the enticement of no Saturday classes, Fred decided upon Economics as the ideal major, despite the best efforts of the faculty. Extra-curricular activities con- sisted chiefly of charter membership In Student Council disapproved groups — the P.D.O. ' s, the Gold Dust Twins, the Dining Room Assault Brigade, and Economists Anonymous. But Fred ' s big- gest extra-curricular activity came dur- ing Senior year when he acquired a wife. The cry from Ninth Entry, the Auxiliary Hacienda, changed from We ' ve got time for one more hand. to Can somebody show me where the library is? I gotta grind. Fred Raach and Hemingway and baseball and cof- fee In the mountains. Above all, he ' s the guy who maintains that laughter Is a priceless commodity and that the man who can ' t laugh at himself is as good as dead. If self-ridicule is the source of life, then he ' ll live to a ripe old age, because there ' s plenty of na- tive raw material — but, more Important, there ' s a tremendous capacity for handling the material. It keeps things going. It keeps everyone else on his toes. It ' s built a lot in the last four years. Will Riggan in part his pompadour and his messy room. It is the way he eats and the times at which he eats. It is also his pacifism and his very real belief in a personal diety. It is his height. It is the sound of his voice when he speaks about Handel. It is the way he studies history. It is his trips to Sam Goody ' s and hi s fierce looks when someone talks while he Is listening to music. It is the fact that most of the music library can be found in his room. It is the way he holds his hands while conducting. It is his Princeton way. It is John. John Roberts Page 73 Tim came to Haverford wifh three books, a slide rule, and two pictures of Nina. Four years have passed, and Tim leaves hHaverford, taking with him three books, a slide rule, a pipe, and nineteen pictures of Nina, and leaving behind As a freshman. Bob lived in a se- Start with the tan briefcase. It can eluded nook in Barclay where he studied be seen eitfier at his side or in the bas- hard, achieved the highest average in ket of his bike, moving up the path from the freshman class, and found only Union towards Founders or the library. ROSE RUBERG RUFF SCHULZE him an extremely impressive record of academic, athletic, and extracurricular achievement. Tim was hardly ever seen with a book in his hand, but he managed to squeeze enough studying into his free time to get through his chemistry major unscathed, though he still bears the scars of his prolonged struggle with the Russian department. Tom was co- captain and star fullback of the soccer team, and a stalwart member of the invincible q.j. basketball team. Finally, Tim yas a competent and concerned Student Council president, who served his fellow students as member of the Council throughout his four years at Haverford. But Tim ' s greatest successes at Haver- ford were as a person, for through his unusual honesty, his mature acceptance of responsibility, and his intense appli- cation of all of his energy to each of his endeavors, Tim gained the respect and admiration of the faculty, the ad- ministration, and the student body alike. Surely, with the help of Nina, Tim will become one of the most successful graduates of the class of 1963. Tim Rose enough spare time to play basketball. As a sophomore he made the fatal er- ror of changing his address to first floor, north Barclay. Here he studied fairly hard, did not achieve the highest aver- age in the sophomore class, and found only enough spare time to play basket- ball and commute to Bala Cynwyd. Junior year he wisely moved to Lloyd but made the unfortunate mistake of bringing his roommates with him. In between studying a little bit and playing basketball, he succumbed to the bland- ishments of Messrs. Finger, Loewy, and Santer. Repelled by the rational dog- mas of his major, he escaped to the soothing mysticism of Henry Joel Cad- bury and Philosophy 24 and to the nerve-wracking task of editing the News ' sports page. Ru ' s decline and fall reached its na- dir senior year when he was incorpor- ated into Ninth Entry. He studied hardly at all, played basketball when an aching back permitted, and found enough spare time to: join the Hy Lit fan club, sleep incessantly, learn the rudiments of table hockey, and compile the first edition of Contemporary Yid- dish Usage. Bob ' s future holds the prospect of med school, where freed from the de- grading shackles of his roommates, he may at last realize his true capabilities unless there ' s a basketball around. Bob Ruberg Add a trombone in one of Dr. Reese ' s innumerable brass choirs or, more re- cently, a white Falcon on its way to Lloyd lot. Because he is a quiet person some Haverfordians may remember Doug only by these externals. But others will remember a Washingtonian with a trace of the South about him and a cheerful smile, a refugee from two years in Barclay, who migrated to Yarnall and then to Scull bringing along his carton of LP ' s and the speaker in the bookcase. We will recall a history major who spent almost as much time in German classes, and a faithful treasurer of the German Club who spent a summer in Heidelberg brushing up his accent. Also notable are a fantastic knowledge of railroad lore and a desk drawer full of time- tables, as well as a large store of anec- dotes: Did you hear about the mixup in Washington? It seems there was this trolley track . . . So it goes. The hi-fi plays some recorded masterwork at a rather un-Scull volume as the latest Care package is distributed to any- one who drops in to ask about the music. Doug Ruff Page 74 Varsity football as a freshman . . . all- east . . . captain in senior year . . . put football on road to recovery . . . strict training ... 4 a.m. pep talks a la GFS . . . sometimes seen in cricket whites . . . defies all rules of form when batting If one were forced to describe Ned in a single word, more than likely it would be seriousness. In all his en- deavors at Haverford he was guided by SCHWEITZER SCHWENTKER but still manages to hit one or two a year onto Lester ' s porch . . . avid fan of the Phillies and Eagles (only if they lose) . . . despite his athletic interests, Joe claims to be a student . . . history major . . . pangs of conscience dictate that he introduce himself to MacCaffrey at commencement . . . firm believer in unlimited cuts . . . took first prize in ' 60 Botany field trip competition . . 8th entry ' s myth . . . 9th entry ' s culture vul- ture (Dido Aeneas, Our Town, Blanco Poznef) . . . 1 0th entry ' s claim to fame ... I Ith hour paper writer (or rather plot recounter) . . . took all the quiet guts . . occasionally seen with a green book bag . . . always seen at Rhoads around 1 :59 a.m. . . . refuses to answer telephone ( It might be Mrs. Shawl ) . . . non-committal when quizzed on summer vacations . . four year acquain- tance with avid Massachusetts liberal likely to continue . . . always worrying about tomorrow . . . wants to teach American history and coach . . . makes vague references to employment in a toy shop . . . however, his friends know better. Joe Schuize We have seen — yes — a young man, (sometimes bearded, sometimes not) hastening from Yarnall to Found- ers — pausing there — then finally with resignation moving to the quiet abode of Miss Tenney . . . We have heard, shattering the quiet of our dreams — yes — the ringing tones of the world ' s loudest banjo, echoing with clarity and precision, competing with but never conquering the relentless clacking of typewriters, the noise of trashcans rolling on the pavement, of phonographs, of toilets flushing . . . The last dexedrine worn off, the paper late (yet finally turned in), we have seen the prostrate body recumbent on the unmade bed. The conqueror — yes, yes — and the conquered. Tom Schweitier this virtue, with the possible exception occurring in the academic sphere. In choosing biology as a major, Ned showed his concern for the basis of life. Naturally, this major interest led him to the theory that his social life must come first . The first serious application of this theory came on the eve of his 21st birthday. Finding his theory some- what inadequate, senior year found him busily at work in Sharpless and prepar- ing to guide Class Night to a success. In his spare time, he attempted to bring culture to 92 Lloyd by learning to play the guitar and the recorder. Ned is a person of diverse activities ranging from competing in athletics to working on the News. Although he will- ingly admits that organization is not his pet, nevertheless, this peeve has never hampered his accomplishments in his committee work. On looking to the future, medicine holds a promising career for him. Al- though my profession will mean the most to me, a kind, generous and suc- cessful husband, father, and doctor we all shall see. Ned Schwentker Page 75 Steve, alias Dr. Finger Jr., can always be found concocting some short-cut for promoting the efficiency of his scien- tific research which so far has resulted in great excitement, but little practical success. Bubbling with the enthusiasm of scientific curiosity and simply bub- bling with champagne a1 times, he bides his time equally and faithfully be- tween the sciences and humanities. The sciences he derives from school: the humanities he derives outside of school (being sure to avoid the uncivilizing effects of Bryn Mawr girls). Wanting desperately to be a cowboy when he was a little boy, he feels now that he While he is probably the most ob- scure member of the class of 1963, ' The Mole ' is also one of the most arti- culate of its members. Reflecting on the nature and composition of hlaver- ford College from his bastion in Haver- town, Bill Is more than willing to discuss, A Phlladelphlan whose attempt to escape to New York ' s bright lights was ultimately foiled by hHaverford and nearby Jenklntown, Andy has been sub- jected to a series of more or less messy roommates and merciless syllabi. Freshman and sophomore years were highlighted by soccer, but with the on- set of junior year the budding all- Amerlcan succumbed to studies and to romance (In ascending order), and the Intercollegiate fields saw him no more. The purchase of a car previously owned by a little - old - lady - who-only- drove - It - on - Sunday - but - managed- to - tear - the - living - daylights - out- SHAFER SHERMER SIEGEL may have to settle for a Doctorate in Biology. Steve Shafer with English-major precision and brevi- ty, virtually any aspect of the college, hlowever, his disregard for normal campus functions (often Including at- tendance at classes) should not be taken as dislike for hHaverford College. An early member of ' 63 ' s at one time large ' jock ' faction. Mole played out his op- tion with the Fords and joined the in- tellectual establishment. This later ac- tion was completed with the addition of a green book bag, several pipes and a Volkswagen which replaced the badly battered, oft-prlmered ' 52 Ford. ' The Mole ' can often be seen heading for the library, usually at the end of the semester, with ah amiable dachshund, Baron, close behind. The resemblance In build between the two has often been noted. While mention of future plans is often nebulous, hlaverford ' s only self-proclaimed ' philosopher-king ' seems to be lately inclined towards a continua- tion of his philosophical and religious studies. We can only wish him con- tinued success and express regret at the departure of ' The Mole. ' Bill Shermer of - it - nonetheless greatly facilitated journeys to Rochester and Nirvana ev- ery second weekend. During his sophomore year Andy es- tablished beyond a shadow of a doubt that there are two-man suites in Fifth Entry; he repeated this demonstration the following year, relinquishing his pri- vate room to his brother-in-law-to-be only when called to 102 Leeds as a senior. Although his future plans definitely Include training In the healing arts, Andy is torn by the necessity of choice, vacil- lating between an M.D. and a PsycFH.D. An eccentric aunt prom.Ised him a small fortune to keep his hair neatly combed until reaching his majority, and he ' s been waiting for the payoff for some time. Gasoline prices and postal rates rose and Andy decided that enough was enough; this most engaging hlaverford- ian was himself engaged well before he Commenced. Andy Siegel There once was a charcoal burner who, for a lark, smeared his face with soot to give his neighbors a turn. After their initial surprise, they joked with him about it, but in private thought his prank a little queer. Then, much to his dismay, he found he could not wash it off. For days he scrubbed at it in the privacy of his house and for days he had his neigh- bors scrub with him — but all to no avail. His neighbors finally returned to their homes very wearied of the whole affair, but he stayed in his house alone and would not show his face in public for weeks at a time. Although most people had seen his condition and were no longer alarmed by it, his gleaming eyes behind the mask disturbed them. They began the most normal conversa- tions with him until, looking up, they would find themselves transfixed by his steady stare and would be discomforted by it. One day, on one of his rare ap- pearances to the market, he heard a child laughing behind him. Turning on it, he struck it so forcibly on the side of the head that its eye fell out. He fled to the nearby forest and took refuge in an abandoned woodchopper ' s cottage. He was never seen again, but rumors were circulated by travelers that a were- wolf had taken up habitation in that for- est. The villagers were sometimes waken- ed in the night by the chopping laughter of an axe which was felt to be his. Often they would lie awake in their beds for many hours after the sound. had ceased. Paul Sinclair First I sat down. Then I tilted my head to the right so my right shoulder would plug my right ear. Then, reaching over my head with my right forearm, I plugged my left ear with my right hand. This freed my left hand to take notes and turn the pages. After a while, I got on my bike and took off. But I had to stop when I got across the bridge, because I couldn ' t re- collect whether to take the Black Horse Pike or the White Horse Pike. At the time, I was pretty worried about my checking account being over- SINCLAIR SMITH SMITH Look on — make no sound. drawn, and my hair being such a mess — Heyst. ( Why don ' t you cut your hair? Tony Charley Smith would say to me), and sort of walking around in an unfriendly daze, so I de- cided not to wear shoes to the temple anymore. At least it wasn ' t as bad as trying to put markers on those frog embryos: the only thing I succeeded in doing was to puncture all seventeen struggling neur- ulas in turn, accompanying each im- palement with the philosophic commen- tary, Well, scratch another one, much to my roommates ' amusement. Then there was the time Connie said that Venus was the goddess of Love, which I thought was pretty funny. George Smith Page 77 Hey Jer, didn ' t we get any sugar this morning? Once again Kent was loading his thernnos with coffee for a night in the library. Kent kept himself busy enough during his four years that he couldn ' t afford the luxury of more than about five hours sleep a night. As President of the Freshman Class and a member of the Students ' Council, Kent started right to work. The first of his nurr.erous projects was to eliminate the upperclass tradition of shaving freshmen heads. Then he ran the most successful Service Fund drive ever, rais- ing $2800.00 in scholarships for African students, $800.00 more than had been I sigh, I yawn, I stretch . . . I try to think of things to do . . . I write I pluck out my gray hairs . . . I balance my books 1 fix my eyes upon my fields and lust for Peace. — Aristophanes Sucking on his Beethoven, the arche- typical dummy leaned back in his chair SMITH SMITH STANLEY raised before. Then he completely re- vamped the College procedures for final exams so that students might schedule when they would take their final exams, hie was last seen Senior year organizing a College plane flight to Europe because he thought it oughta be done. In between times he played four years of basketball, four years of baseball and captained the baseball team his Senior year. In addition he was on various com- mittees and clubs. His summers were varied: the first he spent remodeling houses on Long Island; the second he spent traveling with his brother around Europe; and the third he spent helping the Vermont Democratic Party elect the first Democratic gover- nor in I 09 years. The future will see this non-revolu- tionary progressive doing many things because he thought it oughta be done. Law school comes first but gov- ernment and politics may not be far behind. Kent Smith wishing he were Aristophanes ' Dikaio- polis. His pregnant intellect soared into a rosy realm of ideas — ideas ranging from disarmament theory to Monet cathedrals, from protein synthesis in paremicium to Greek tragedy. Suddenly he aborted. Concepts SPUed forth and soon Steve found himself abroad. A broad turned up in a Gif-fy. Undaunt- ed, he shouldered his fishing tackle but found himself caroming down the moun- tain on a pair of skis, chopping down theorists with his analytic ping-pong paddle. Continuing the destruction, he cut apart Aristotle and St. Augustine and slashed madly at Kennedy ' s foreign policy. Switching weapons, he took up the Terrible Pun and completely de- molished the assumed modesty of his roommates ' dates. But Steve ' s galloping intellect wouldn ' t stop . . . finally he gave up asking Aquinas and Descartes to help him put cytidine monophosphate kinases in their proper existential pigeonhole and jumped on the scooter headed for Bryn Mawr. Steve Smith The Moving Finger writes, and, having writ. Moves on; nor all your Piety nor Wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it. — • Edward Fitzgerald The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam Jeff Stanley A dejected Stave frequently maintain- ed that he ' d spend his first three years here preparing to transfer to Penn State and B.M.C. during his fourth. As usual, he underestimated Haverford ' s mould- ing influence. Along with his B.A., Ben lists an imposing list of acquisitions: a preference for sailboats to books, an overwhelming infatuation with the banjo matched only by his overwhelming mus- ical ineptitude, a fondness for the List- erine attributes of cheap wine ( It cleans out your mouth between courses ), a trophy for being first place skipper in the Georgia Tech Invitational Regatta, the unseemly monicker of The Job, and sweet memories of a Ben Stavis fan Alan Stone my jo. A! When we were first acquent. Your head was like a lunk o ' clay Your butt was what did thenk; But now your head it thenks, Al, You ' ve grown up some, I trow. Without a push your friends give ear To Alan Stone my jo. No one faced the varied crises of col- lege life with more equanimity than did Joe. To every situation — intellectual, social, or athletic — he brought a speci- STAVIS STONE TAYLOR club, whose president was R. I. Walter. But R. I. resigned and the club collapsed when Stave, afraid of getting lost in the Chem building, prostituted himself by majoring in political science. The fan club was doomed. No political science professor stayed at Haverford long enough to perceive Stave ' s true worth. For Ben played better with ideas than with the banjo. The Job, surfacing after a three month submersion in the his- tory of the Koumintang, said he under- stood why Chiang was a fool, and he really did. Political science graduate school seemed the course of least resist- ance. But which one? The Job spent many nights along side of some no-long- er-innocent Bryn Mawrter playing his banjo with one hand and pondering about grad schools with the other. The choice narrowed down to the University of Warsaw where the women and poli- tics are fascinating or the University of Hawaii where equally splendid are the sailing and feminine companionship. Ben Stavis Oh, faced-Stone-face me now, my jo. For we must both get sober. We ' d monie a cantie party, Al, But now the party ' s over. Now we maun totter down, Al, Who knows which way we ' ll go; To sleep, to dream, perchance to rub Old Alan Stone my jo. Al Stone al kind of grace and presence. Joe al- ways seemed supremely content with what he was doing and quite oblivious to the cares and the anxieties which at least occasionally bothered his contempora- ries. At times his serenity was almost dis- turbing; the curious would find them- selves searching uneasily for a flaw in the formidable armour of his self-assur- ance. Yet Joe ' s strengths never made him inaccessible. He was always deeply in- volved in experience, yet aware that there were other ways than his own of seeing and of doing things. No one could resent his exceptional competence, for, no matter how others idealized him, Joe himself remained aware of his limi- tations and failings. His accomplishments as student and athlete are undoubtedly significant, but Joe will be remembered more vividly as a sympathetic confidant and faithful friend. Joe Taylor Page 79 Dick has never ceased to amaze Hav- erford students with his compendious knowledge of ancient battles, Norwegian kings, old radio programs, rock-and-roll songs, and obscure journeymen athletes. This encyclopedic fund of useless In- formation, along with his boisterous good humor, surly cynicism, and Irre- presible gregariousness, have made Dick a constant participant in campus bull sessions be they in the coop, the dining rHRALL UNGER VANDENBERG As a firm believer in the unity of thought and action Charles found it only logical to combine peace marching and dime store picketing with the sociologi- cal study of attitudes toward peace and civil rights. Even on those special July weekends the two of them could some- times find a direct action project. Other weekends Charles was apt to be seen leaving campus early Saturday morning, pack on his back, to lead his Scout troop camping. From his bottomless armchair, he dispensed newspapers, magazines, odd facts and advice to a select circle. Charley Thrall room, or the library lobby, where Dick takes innumerable butt breaks every evening. In spite of all this, however, Dick has studied effectively, and he has also found time to serve as both station manager of WHRC and manager of the football team. When Dick leaves the li- brary for the last time, after finishing his definitive treatise on Anglo-hlanseatic commercial relations between 1485 and 1509, and goes on to graduate study in medieval history, hiaverford will lose a campus institution, but the scholars of America will acquire a unique, unpre- dictable colleague. Dick Unger Whatever is realized is right. Oscar Wilde, De Profundis Ross Van Denbergh Page 80 i. A fantic little kid as a freshman, he At first sight experience seems to made his mark with tooth, claw, and bury us under a flood of external objects, the cynical cracks of his wit. Water Tony Vincent pressing upon us with a sharp and im- fights were smashing and the phone H VINCENT WALTON WEBER truck steal a coup, hlis irony wit was pointed, dipped in the black jelly of humor, and used to etch in the poison- alities around him. hlis surface was smooth — like the egg shell finish of a white Cadillac, or some hiandsome Molly . . . but underneath crawled the irreverent lice of lechery, lapping at the spillings of spite. H.L W.W. Flohr Chevrolet C.R.T. Quand je dance, je dance . . . The Alfa in Europe Celine: Voyage au Bout de la Florida The Alfa at Haverford The Vales of Arcady the Fiat I 100 Melanos: Eleusis looked nice. April: we should have gone to Swath- more. Die Deutsche Gesellschaft: rain. Orphee: Mais je ne peux pas m ' occup- er de toutes les lumieres a la fois! French House 10: What ' s cooking to- night? portunate reality, calling us out of our- selves in a thousand forms of action. But when reflexion begins to play upon these objects they are dissipated under its influence; the cohesive force seems suspended like some trick of magic; each object is loosed into a group of impres- sions — color, odour, texture — in the mind of the observer . . . Every moment some form grows per- fect in hand or face; some tone on the hills or the sea is choicer than the rest; some mood of passion or insight or in- tellectual excitement is irresistibly real and attractive to us, — for that moment only . . . Not the fruit of experience but experience itself is the end . . . hHow shall we pass most swiftly from point to point, and be present at the point where the greatest number of vital forces unite in their purest energy? To burn always with this hard, gem- like flame, to maintain this ecstasy, is success in life. In a sense it might even be said that our failure is to form habits: for, after all, habit is relative to a stereo- typed world, and meantime It is only the roughness of the eye that makes any two persons, things, situations seem alike. Walter Pater, The Renaissance Tony Walton Page 81 After he made his mark in school, hu- man relations were upgraded. The Founders single was a meditative trek into the desert from which he returned driving a Citroen with a redhead inside. He put aside his foundations in English literature (referred to as his Skeleton in the closet) and laid the groundwork for an academic career with cell architec- ture. Not that he stuck his nose in germ cultures and forsook the culture spelled with a capital C — rather, he maintain- ed a dihybrid culture appreciation that is remarkable even in highest brow groupings. WIthall, he became more self-settled, more gentlemanly. His irony wit was just as pointed, but dipped less in poison and more in brandy. He even ventured to learn touch football. Mike Weber Oh I was young and easy mercy of his means, the Time held me green and dying Though I sang In my chains like the sea. A conversation with Bob will quickly establish the fact that he is from Corpus Chrlsti, Texas — and that he wouldn ' t care to come from anywhere else. He says he came North to acquire the social grace and polish which his mother felt could be learned only In A Good Eastern Liberal Arts College. But Bob may have learned more about grace and polish during his Junior year abroad In Spain and the Riviera. No one but Bob would have returned to the spit-and-polish of hiaverford with experience, not only as a student in Madrid, but as a bartender In Monte Carlo. Skeerawch! From the heights of Bar- clay came the howl of a banshee. Mike Wichura was practicing his viola. The amazing thing was that he didn ' t always need the viola. The urge Intensified — Mike took a year off between sopho- more and junior years and studied music in Phlla., but was still see n creeping to and fro on his way to occasional math classes. Junior year was a horror, con- founded by Disillusionment, Downs (Ter- ry) and Dale (hlusemoller). (Hey, Dr. Husemoller, what ' s a functor?) Dylan Thomas, Fern Hill Bob lives in the antique, baronial To make things worse, Mike took WERNER WHITE WICHURA Freshman year Mike arrived on the campus with a beard, a vast array of pipes, a book bag and a highly develop- ed Interest In physics. At the end of four years, only the beard has disappeared and this has been replaced by an army fatigue hat of dubious utilitarian value. Suffice It to say that this outer chaos which often accompanies The Weenie is only an illusion. On a campus which values and demands intellectual achieve- ment above all else, Mike has not only managed to excell intellectually but to add to this excellence through a total In- volvement in numerous other fields. His speciality of physics has not become specialization. On the other hand, Mike Is also that rarity at Haverford, a good guy who Is also a grind of sorts. A con- stant and occasionally distinguished In- tramural jock, Mike Is also an excellent bridge player and a seemingly perpetual participant In chess tournaments. Mike has decided that astronomy Is to be the field of his future activities. Indeed, it Is entirely possible to envisage him as the next Louis Green. With a plaid-patched book bag, of course. Mike Werner splendor of Spanish House, and his so- cial life there has not suffered. He can play soulful melodies on his violin and serve Spanish sherry to his pretty Swarthmore and Bryn Mawr friends In perfect serenity. He Is hardly the hermit type, however, and can be discovered effervescing on campus much of the time, especially where music or a good time Is to be found — both of which he may be helping to create. He is completely at home with every- body, and completely sincere In his re- lations with them. Bob will make you feel he ' s doing you a favor when he ' s asking for one from you. His three years here and his sojourn In Spain may have changed him somewhat: he Is possibly more relaxed, good natured and cheer- ful, but the present and former Bob Whites are virtually Identical. For every- thing that Bob does now is handled, as It was four years ago, with complete grace and effortlessness. He Is a thing of which Haverford may be proud: a gentleman. Bob White comps Junior year, said a sad goodbye to his former classmates, and looked foreward to a senior year of relaxation, punctuated only by frizbees, females, and as little math as possible. Graduate school fever caught him though, and he started an intensive inquiry Into the na- ture of truth and higher-higher educa- tion. (OK, Bob, now let ' s talk about something Important — how many girls have you dated since you got to Har- vard?) The results are not yet conclusive, but the search goes on. The future is no longer math confusion: while still a bit hazy. It is nevertheless bright. Mike Wichura In the fall of ' 59 Fate dropped The Seed at hiaverford. The Seed thrived in Its new soil and climate, giving rise to a tree with a trunk connposed of the social sciences and having limbs made of soci- ology. Below the tree, which was nour- ished by the academic air, there de- Blessed are they which do thirst after righteousness, for they shall be filled. He searches after righteousness, yet he is not self-righteous, but only too con- scious of his own real or imagined short- comings. hlis life does not center around Hav- erford, but around the Anglican Church, hie wonders if he is fit for the ministry, questioning whether he is himself a good WILLIAMS WINTERER WOOD veloped a complex and diversified root system. One went off to the Gymnasium where for three years it trained and managed soccer in the Fall and track in the Spring. Another root thrived in the Office of Food and FHousing (although not on the nutrients provided) and ex- er-ted its influence on the Dining Room and Dormitory Committees. A third root appeared in the Computer Room of Hilles to direct an Arts and Service course and research projects. By the third year the root system had effused over the entire campus to act as Student Affairs Coordinator. But more import- ant than the plant itself, which arose from The Seed was the healing balm which oozed from the tree and which the students found could be counted on to help them whenever they needed as- sistance. After spending four years in a symbiotic relationship with hiaverford, a more highly developed Seed has been formed, and when this new Seed is blown elsewhere, it will have left behind a root system to enrich the Haverford soil. Lindsley Williams . . . there exists an x such that x came to Haverford three years ago; such that X committed grievous sin of considering Haverford education preparation for further — and even worse, professional — studies; and such that x will effect grand synthesis between the organic and the metaphysical. p.s. this X has definitely been heard mumbling something about how Freud burned his homework to make it hard for his biographers. Joey Winterer enough person to instill goodness in others. He has a deep love especially of reli- gious vocal music, but he feels he hasn ' t the talent to make music his career. His school training has given him a ferocious self-discipline and an ability to study long and diligently, but he questions the relevance and value of much of what he studies. He makes life hard for himself by look- ing into both his motives and those of others. But difficult though this life may be for him, I have the feeling it is the only life for him. The person I see is someone altogether too good to be true. The difference with John Wood is that he is true. John Wood Page 83 WORTH From the pastoral surroundings of the lettuce farm and the pine-hidden lakes in South Jersey to the depths of a paleo- thic Andalusian burial bat cave is quite a distance. How could such a quiet, gentle mannered, good humored person (all of his friends know he never loses his temper) cover such an expanse in the four short years of his college life? Be- hind that ever-present, deceptive, Bud- dha-like smile there is more than one might ordinarily suspect. Fred is really an enormously enigmatic soul capable of outbursts of exceeding vehemence usually vented on inanimate objects, e.g., the lamp which invariably interrupts his naps on the floor by turn- ing itself on five minutes after he has fallen asleep, and frequently over-whelm- ed by moods of pensive silence dominat- ed by nostalgic souvenirs of a certain petite pied-noire marocalne. No mere dilettante is this Ulysses, hlis patience and fortitude, his taste and fortitude, his taste and humor, his for- bearance and perseverance, have made him friends on three continents (even in El Molino Rojo of Tangiers). This, then, is Fred Worth, polyglot titan of Spanish House, and sophisticated literate of the senior class. Fr d Worth Page 84 Gordon T. Barnett David H. Bates Henry G. Bibber Stephen P. Bobrovnikoff C. B. Tertius Downs Henry T. Freund Gerald M. Harter Robert M. Haymond Daniel O. Hogenauer Allen David Hole, III Robert A. Hutto Daniel M. Jonas Christopher P. Kauffiiian Thomas G. Kessinger Tahlman Krumm, Jr. William D. Learned Barry M. L ' Etoile G. Jordan Maclay Clark N. Maxfield William R. Mervine David W. Mitchell Charles W. Morrisey Wilson H. Oelkers, Jr. Michael E. Penzell Donald C. Porteous, Jr. James I. Richardson Thomas W. Richardson Harry F. Saint Jay F. Schamberg Robert E. Sipe Daniel C. Smiley Michael H. Spring Jacques H. Transue John T. Wertime Russell E. Westberg Neil K. Williams Peter N. Wilson Page 85 June 7, 1963 ; ' ' .r % •J Front seated: Stetler; Schacterle; Cauffman; Kane First row (front): Tunnell; Price; Davis, R.; Parker; Schwarz; Graves; Umland; Rich; hiedgepeth; Bonime; Hershey; Second row: Gutman; Hillier; WoUinger; Grossman; Balber; Rawlings; Salner; McCarger; Feinsod; Strieb; Ross; Chase; Phillips; Macpherson; Baker; Hicks; Johnson; Third row: Felsen; Meroney; Ghigo; Stern; Auerbacb; Keenan; Wertinne; Young; Oldnnixon; Fritchley; Punzak; Bowers; Rosenthal; Manoff; Davis, L.; de Schweinitz; Melby; Tree: Macbride; Warlow; McKeehan; McCune; Cottrell; Walker; Annbler; Idell; Dowds; Schatzki; Raphael; Elliott; Hansen; Pleatman: Wheeler; Williams; Taylor; MooreJ Veritable Sancho Panzas they arson; Dye; Salisbury. Lyon; Dcdson; Becker; Meuller; Roberts; Horwitz; Hlllman; Hoover; Fernsler; Sechler; Rohlts. BongiovannI; Saylor; Blachley; Robinson; Crane; Hopkins; Curley. ichwertfeger; Jackson; Fumla. TA TEMENT IN WHICH EXISTENCE IS, IF NOT FULLY JUSTIFIED. AT LEAST PARTIALLY EXPLAINED In all lives there should be certain standards of excellence observable in the actions of an individual or group that should be emulated as the highest known principle. There is one person whose idol cannot be touched by the usual bunch of heroes to whose deeds of courage, daring, resourcefulness, and coolness and miens of calm repose in the face of adversity and ennui alike most folk aspire. To identify the individual, first, it is necessary only to say that he need not be identified, for in his devotion to this unique idol all that is great (which is truly that with which any individual is ultimately identified) flows from the bountiful source of his inspiration as the waters of the Nile flow forth from wherever. The individual is the outward expression of the perfection of the standard or idol which must now be dealt with. The word idol has a restrictingly singular tone about it that must swiftly be abrogated; This object of emulation most worthy is not a lone figure but a staunch group, little known but of notorious notoriety, embodying all the highest, yet the most suavely, slyly ingenious of ideals (sort of like an in- efficient Robin Hood). Bennington ' s Marauders, for such was the appellation bestowed upon them by the simple country folk who were somewhat given to romantics — and in a sense a misnomer, too, for marauding was a thing foreign to their nature and no one, including the members of the clan, quite knew who Bennington was or what he did (but such is the Inadequacy of history, lending anonymity in cases like this where the shining virtue and extreme coolness of purpose plus many other resplendent talents and beneficent qualities of some group of figures of heroic calibre such as these out- shine and obscure irrelevancies of detail and throw historians into a muddle) — these Bennington Marauders were the champions of every lost cause, of every worthy but hopeless sentiment to be found within the human heart, and few can realize the intensity with which these brave stalwarts ever swam upstream in the raging torrent of mankind ' s rushing, gurgling, splashing race over the rocks to the sea of self- destruction. This hardy band, to the small numbers not totally un- | familiar with some of their more spectacular exploits, this j self-same crowd, came into being silently as the wind, one moment still, the next whipping the topmost branches of trees into line. Oh, what heroic feelings motivated their most humane deeds! Veritable Sancho Panzas they! Oh, with what feeling did they subordinate their own personal dreams and desires to the ever elusive goal: the good of mankind! Within their number were those who. having attained excellence and fame in some worldly pursuit, relinquished all for the privi- lege of serving humbly and without recognition those prin- ciples common to all humanity but too sublime, too close to eternal to be universally achieved. Their greatness and pro- fundity flowed into the vast sum of aspirations for humanity of the clan, losing all proportion of greatness in the staggering vision of the wondrous ideal of this select, secret group. This principle, which so few have understood and which fewer still have lived solely for the attainment of. rests in under- standing the great, compassionate and subtle implications of knowingly futile and yet (paradoxically) continuingly per- sistent action. The most worthy cause is that which is stead- fastly striven for when all hope is lost, when fixity of purpose - is less, even, than farce. To the world outside, . the great ideal of Bennington ' s Marauders seems done for, lost, hopeless. Yet there is another . group in which the spirit lives, in which a revival of the ideal seems immanent, or at least imminently immanent. In one body there appears a faint glimmer, a ray of hope that the vanishing ideal of an unknown leader of the greatest of all obscure groups of unselfishly dedicated mortals may arise. The individual (whom we identified as one who needs no identification, remember?) now stands with others like him m a compact body, dedicated to following the example of all that is worthwhile, sublime, and good in its apparent aimless- ness. Drawing strength from mutual hopeless obscurity and striving for not only mutually unobtainable but also unrecog- nizable goals is a group, which like Bennington ' s Marauders ; finds fixity of purpose in seemingly random behavior based i on sublimely noble futility. HISTORY WILL REMEMBER THE CLASS OF ■ 1  r ■• d - € ¥r- ; M i - s ' ' i E ' -Aj f t Ji, ' «si|y w (Bench) First Row; Hipkins, Von Ranson. Second Rowr Adelman, Fllnker, RIordan, Sifferlan, Stevens, Third Row: Sarver. Cordi, Spencer, Chace, Elms, Carson. Fourth Row: Zapp, Watson, Shack, Hawkins, Glllinghani, Yelon, Lary. (Trees) Fifth Row: Parkinson, Woodward, Weil, Stern, Simmons, Blair, G. Smith Frank, Brookes, Inui, Wallon, Johnston, Kasser, Van Brunt. Thc sophomores ... a Bunch . . . they i-1 ff seem essential What can one say about a sopho- more class? The sophs haven ' t just arrived nor are they just leaving. It is not they who have paced Haver- tord in the past year, yet they have become too fanuhar to si-em superfluous. Nothing distinguishes them as a group; heir only cohesiveness is in the student directory where heir year-old smiles and determined looks create a pleas- antly-animated checkerboard. What can one say about the sophomores? — except that they are a Bunch. And that they seem essential. Perhaps one could capture something of the merit of the Class through a you-are-there approach . . . the time: 192-63 . . . the place: Haverford College. It was a gray, overcast September day as . . . but that would be much too superficial. An intense, perceptive analysis of the psychological and sociological transformations since freshman year might prove more informative. One could describe the subtle changes in the tacit inguys-outguys lineup, discuss the gradual disappearance of proverbial class spirit, or outline disappearance of proverbial class spirit, or outline the benefits of the inevitable prestige increment warranted by absolution from beaniehood. One could also show how the mitial state of 118 autonomous personalities was being broken down by groups of mutual interest and outlook, cliques, factions — and friends. One might even drag out Verm diagrams. But such discussion soon deteriorates into the esoteric and dull. And it would probably fail to portray the spirit of the constant and numberless day-to-day minutiae that constitute Haverford ' s way of life. This characteristic spirit might best be caught in not- too-serious general impressions of how the sophomores were faring in the Land of Chocolate (?) Stew and the Eternal Spoonbang. Although the BMC conquest-quotient was gradually improving, the sophos ' putty-muscled betrayed the malady of Life Without Ion — either that, or indicated a new (very mysterious) enthusiasm for Affairs of the Mind. Somehow, the sophos were getting sopht. They were becoming more aware of what time the hot water went off, ind when the radiators came back on. And coffee was deteriorating to but a symbolic reminder: grind. The sopho- mores ' increasingly violent reaction to an increasingly violent battle might best be illustrated ironically. The sophs now spoke in Tahitian tongues. And wrote in hieroglyphic scribble, and know the size of elephant lungs. And countless other factual drivel. But such crude singsong would do injustice to the artsy- craftsy element of the Class, which might be better rep- resented by Fair Lorga ' s hoary, moon-soaked platitudes That swept the writhing daemon ' s burly hunch. And whispered Orno ' s mighty meridian- speckled vision To the sylvan orb. But in grasping the folksy element, one might minimize the class ' straight-arrow character. And in piortraying the lat- ter, one would probably gloss over the idiosyncracies of its individuals. Indeed, it would be difficult to create a co- herent, integral picture . . . Ultimately, one can only say that the merits and weak- nesses of the class rested within individuals — that some- how, the total was very little greater than the sum of its parts. One thing, however, was certain: The sophomores were a Bunch. And they seemed essential. Aside from this, what can one say about a sophomore class? . . . maybe Drinking a little more, studying a little less — less involved with Haverford life, more involved in shap- ing their own Jives — less concerned with community honor, more concerned with individual honors — the class of 1964 moves closer to the end of its existence. All vestiges of the freshman spirit are gone now. The social reformers, the idealists, the lovers of knowledge have either disappeared or mellowed considerahly. The ad men, the rich man ' s doctors and lawyers, the hankers and merchants are beginning to emerge. What is happening in short is what has happened to all other groups in all other times: ideals are fading in the face of actualities— in some cases the actualities become overwhelming. The angry young men aren ' t very angry any more; most, in fact, seem rather docile. The college experience is no longer a grand unending adventure, but an event in time that class members are placing in the perspective of their futures. This general development however does not imply any sort of class-wide collective action. Most class members are working out the future and living the present in small groups that pr eclude class unity. Others deny or are denied even this relationship and have chosen to go it alone. Perhaps this too is a mani- festation of the acceptance of act ialities; a realization that meaningful coinmunication within a large group is an ideal that nnist he discarded along with the rest. Class of ' 64 . . . groTving cynical, maybe . . . growing indifferent, maybe . . . maybe just grorving up. ■ •% just growing up On Benches: McDougal, Carson, Parkinson { ' 65), Gilllnqham ( ' 65). Standing: Lary ( 63). Schotz. Ruppenthal. Ings, Sonnenborn. Kabat, Wittinglon. Hogenauer, Shapiro. Smiley. Sunderman, Birmingham, Ward. Wood. Mtcfc. In Lower B ' ' anches: Silvers, Scherer. Major, Leppik, E. J. Smith, Snow, Tomaro. Top: Olton, Lucas. Let ' s chug these, suggested Joe innocently. You ' re dnink, Scott observed as he mixed some more in the milk can. Alf said something pointed— I couldn ' t quite hear what— to Weber, who responded with his best ironic smile. Roy was composing an invocation to I ' ivresse. Cool, man, but I was getting restless. Time to go visiting. I wobbled over to first entry. Nolt, Will, and Jace interrupted their dart throwing to tell me I was faced. Edified, I stepped next door. John Wood ' s frown deepened, and Larry, his mustache quivering, launched without preamble into point one! of an attack on the humanities. I turned to Jeff for sup- port, but he would offer only a faint, impenetrable smile. Down to the singles. Tim seemed apprehensive; Last door on the right, he prompted uneasily. Wer- ner looked properly bemused, but Mung welcomed me with a complacent obsenity. I was just beginning to feel at home when a spear whistled past my ear and thudded into the wall. Whv not try Lloyd? But the walk was too long; I decided to stop at the library. The north wing was empty save for George Smith reverently skimming through the Phaednis. Carefully steering around John Margolis, who stood transfixed, staring at The Clock, I made my way back to the carrels. Eagei for diversion, Arnie Quint jumped up from his desl to suggest that I burn the library down. Rog Herzel who happened to be browsing in the stacks, was able to supply the necessary match. Unfortunately, al that moment, alert Howie Deshong hurried over from his post at the reser ' e desk to restore order. On the way out, I ran into Loren. Nice show, he bellowed. Determined to shock, I burst into Ter- ry ' s room, only to find him seated in unassailable tranquility behind his water pipe. The rhetorical question of his raised eyebrows signaled the futility of my ploy. My luck was better with Charlie Bern- heimer, who chortled inanely when I entered. The mood was destroyed by Ste -e ' s first comment, which made even the Stave blush. Eighth. Vexed, Charlie Smith threw down his copv of the Marquis de Sade when I interrupted him. Liesveld was more friendly, until I tore the title page of his Social Register. Amidst the din, a gentle witticism from Blumenthal went unnoticed. Upstairs, Kent was throwing basketballs into a wastebasket while Jerry guarded him. I stepped over to Ninth, but the door was locked. Seed would have a key, but he was probably busy applying hot stuff to Roger Kohn ' s writing hand. Should I try Scull? Doug Ruff would have me exor- cised. Yarnall? Williams? French House? I pounded harder on the door. Go away. We ' re trying to study, shouted someone from within. It was then that I realized how smashed I was. Charlie Thrall assisted me back to mv room. First Row: Darlington, T. Tiger, Quill, Cole, C. Bednarik. Hogenauer, Glllam, Holdabagel Second Row: Meyer, S. Smith, Hammaker, LeviH, K. Smith. Grey Man, C. A. Lindbergh, Bai Third Row: I. Gilbert, 8. Arnold, Ettinger, Seed, J. D. Margolis, Schwentker. Franklin, White Tree: Nolte. Riggan, Siegel, K. Kirk, De Ris, S. Johnson, Thrall. Cook. Wop, Rose. Werner ' Edified . Weber. Harpo MatK. Fasoldt, G. Houston, Hugh Heffner, Walton, Kohn, Rutf, Lary. ber. Knees, Binky. Hunt, Stork, Roberts, Bernheimer, Daneker, Stone (invisible), Levi, Flanders, Miller Barlow, Quint, Heuss, Vincent, Lawn, Conn, Shafer, Crawford, Powers. Hllliard. Reach, Worth, Maruyama, Belanger, Grambs, Auer {partially eclipsed), Norberg. activities Three or four years ago at Haverford it became fashionable among the faculty members to equate the quality of the courses they taught with the amount of work they assigned in them. Soon the gut courses disappeared almost entirely, good courses became dif- ficult, and difficult courses in many cases became backbreaking ones. The results of what they felt to be the founders club up-grading of their courses ore noticeable particularly in the realm of organized extra - curriculor activities on campus, which are pre- sently in one hell of. a mess, to put the matter bluntly. Many of the organized acti- vities are engaged in a des- perate struggle for survival. The growing burden of aca- demic work has thrown some organizations into a decline, others into chaos. glee club The largest orgcmizaiions on campus are primarily musical in nature, and the largest of them all is the Hcrver- ford College Glee Qub. The Glee Club had a difficult time in retaining its membership this year. Un- C Cont ' d on next page} and has forced a few into complete evaporation. Nor is this all. The new art and movie series hove put increased demands upon the student ' s time and have de- stroyed much of his initia- tive. He often feels that his creative urges are satiated by the professional enter- tainment which flowers ev- ery weekend on campus. The Hoverford student ' s life has become an endless pro- der the presidency of Bill Levi, the Glee Club found itself in the midst of trouble at its first concert in November, for it was at the Glee Club parties in 3rd and especially 7th entries in Lloyd that the atrocities of the infamous Ursinus Weekend were most in evidence, with the Connecticut College Chorus an un- suspecting audience. The Glee Club was hardly responsible for that week- end, but few members in the club were anxious to make the scheduled return engagement in New London the fol- lowing week-end, not only because of the embarrassment caused earlier, but also and especially because their work load was so heavy that a week-end away from the books seemed irrational. The Christmas Collections here and at Bryn Mawr were given with distinction, and the performance of the Trauer Ode with Douglass did much to re-establish faltering morale in the club which had neither a Spring Trip nor an engage- ment with the Philadelphia Orchestra towards which to look. The days of flaming personalities in the Glee Club, especially among the officers, seem to be over. The club, more than ever before, must look for guidance and morale from its conduc- tor, William Reese. The man is overworked, with more than a score of rehearsal hours a week, (Cont ' d on next page) cession of chair-warming: from the library to Roberts to the dining hall to his room he goes; he sits and looks and listens and eats and oc- casionally drinks. Instead of making a physical and men- tal effort when he wants en- tertainment, the student lies back and is massaged: or- ganized extra - curricular activities are suffering from nothing less than sedimen- tization. in addition to two regular classes to teach and his duties as head of the Haverford Music Department. Besides the Glee Club, he conducts the Heinrich Schutz Singers, the Orchestra, the Freshman Glee Club, and the Brass Ensemble. He has innumerable indi- vidual and part rehearsals and he must, of course, himself learn the music which he conducts. But Dr. Reese ' s chief headache is the Haverford Administration itself. An in- creasing scheduling of classes at night has resulted in a situation where stu- dents must choose between a cherished course and a cherished extra-curricular activity. Many at Haverford pick the former, reflecting the over-emphasis on the academic side of life here which has become almost universal. The Good Doctor must fight for the time of students against very powerful opponents. It is small wonder that he is irritable and tired-looking these days. But if Reese ' s spirit flags, what will be- come of the Glee Club, whose very life depends on his attractions as a per- sonality and a rallying-point. New pres- ident Bob Bates has a rough row to hoe next year in holding the Glee Club together, unless the administration acts to relieve the pressure on all things extra-curricular — something which does not seem to me to be likely. True, a few organizations are flourishing despite the general decline, in most cases because of the efforts of a devoted student who in each case holds an organi- zation together. But what- ever happened to the Inter- national Relations Club? Who ' s on the Arts Council? Have ybu heard about a Chemistry Club meeting re- cently? What did the Psy- chology Club do last semes- orchestra The Bryn Mcrwr-Hoverford College Or- chestra has emerged in recent years as a major musical addition to the two- campus scene. Composed of students of both colleges and a few faculty members, the Orchestra presented three major concerts this year. Conducted by Dr. Reese, the Orchestra was managed and generally super- intended by musical factotum Terry Belanger, who ran the organization for the third year with a thoroughness which was the envy of other campus clubs and the despair of the members of the Orchestra. (Cont ' d on next page) Page 99 fer? Why didn ' t the Glee Club sing with the Philadel- phia Orchestra this year? Where is the Caucus Club? Some Haverford organiza- tions have outlived campus interest and will probably disappear shortly from the scene, and their demise would be a normal one if new organizations replaced them. This, however, is not the case. In recent years only two organizations have been The Orchestra presented cm ambitious selection of music this year, and gen- erally presented it very well. Steve Flanders played the ' cello solo in the Bortok Concerto for that instrument in a concert which was hailed by the News (admittedly an unreliable source) as the outstanding musical event of the season. Nina Greenberg scored as soloist in the Mozart Clarinet Concerto, receiving, as the Bryn Mawr Gazette restrainedly put it, one bou- quet, two kisses, and three curtain calls for her p erformance. And Anna Norberg was a brilliant soloist in the spring performance of the Chopin E minor piano concerto. Most important in the Orchestra this year is the fact that the members seem to be over their long-held inferiority complex. The Orchestra presents high- quality music performances, and the members are now aware of the fact. This group is one of the few really flourishing organizations in a campus of declining ones, and the members have reason to be proud of their ac- complishment. vmsafdc formed: the Band and the Student Peace Union. Some faculty members a- gree that the work load is both increasing and over- taxing. Other professors demonstrate, sometimes with charts and graphs, that the typical Haverford stu- dent is not overworked but merely disorganized. He has five courses and a great deal of time in which to prepare for them. If he organizes his The Varsity Marching Society and Auxiliary Fife and Drum Corps, vul- garly known as the Bond, is an organ- ization formed perhaps half an houj before a football or basketball gome and disbanded hali an hour after the game is over. There is no administra- tive red tape, few expenses, no trouble in maintaining membership. They had sufficient spirit to have their picture taken, not on the beach as the accom- panying photograph seems to indicate, but on the snow in near-zero weather, out on the deserted football field. Dove Olton has been Manager of the Band this year, and he ' s been on ex- cellent one. He has kept the group to- gether with a minimum of external complications and bureaucracy. He is the guiding spirit of the Band in much the same way that Steve Smith is the guiding spirit of the Student Peace Un- ion. Without the two of them, neither organization would probably exist on campus. People have interest enough in some organizations to be members, but all too few have time or inclination to be leaders. The problem is not lack of ability but simple lack of energy. With the passing of Dave and Steve, the Band and the SPU are liable, if not likely, to die a swift and silent death, if someone doesn ' t come along to fill their shoes- — a process which is be- coming ever less traditional at Hover- ford. Page 101 work properly, he will hove plenty of time for both work and ploy, with eight hours of sleep thrown in, and, to develop the whole man, an adequate sports pragram as well. Everyone ' s life contains a certain amount of disorgan- ization, and that of the typi- cal Haverford student is no exception. Well then, re- spond the members of the faculty, let those students the news Loren Ghiglione ' s Haverford News was good and bad, but seldom indifferent. Loren battled with quixotic ferocious- ness against administration, alumni, faculty, and student windmills, wield- ing arguments which were occasion- ally persuasive but unfailingly irrita- ting to everyone concerned. But while Loren ' s ends may have been worthy ones, the means he adopted were considerably less so. The squab- ble with the alumni over the Alumni Notes is only gradually dying down. And the alumni ' s disgust with the News ' s tactics may be seen by their small response to the newspaper ' s so- licitation of them for (paying) sub- scriptions. Only a few hundred of the 5000-odd alumni now receive the News. The lecture series which Loren initiated through the News, dealing with various aspects of journalism, proved to be of wide-spread interest and genuine value. The list of speakers included such men as A. J. Liebling and Douglas Bourstedt. However, Loren ' s staff was never train- ed in the fundamentals of newspaper writing and reporting, a fact which was to make the new editor Norman Pearl- stine mop his brow when he took over in February. Loren has won his point. The paper now exists as a student-written and stu- dent-read newspaper. The News would (Cont ' d on next page) who want to participate in extra - curricular activities organize their time, and let those students who are in- caoable of this organization s ick, as best they can, strictly to their studies. If they want badly enough to participate in other things, students will organize their time to allow themselves to do so. It seems very simple. But is it so simple? Let us examine the faculty ' s charts do well to refrain from a sterile repe- tition of news already in the hands of the student body and to broaden its scope of activity in other areas. Inter- views with Collection speakers, rather than summaries of their lectures al- ready familiar to most of the students, would be more sensible. What I ad- vocate is a more featurish newspaper, for in a community as small and in- tegrated as Haverford, very little in- formation remains news long enough for the weekly newspaper to have many scoops. and graphs. The official par- ty h ' ne runs that, if the stu - dent devotes two hours of preparation for every class hour, he will do well in his courses. But when a student has a paper due in a course, he naturally must spend many extra hours in its pre- paration. When he has an exam, he must spend still more hours of preparation. To do excellently in a course, then, our theoretical student must devote perhaps four. the record The quality and indeed the actual ex- istence of this year ' s Record was as usual threatened by an overwhelming lack of interest on the part of the college at large. When pictures were required, only hoagies could be found; and in- stead of articles, editor Scott Gillam ' s mailbox was full of excuses. Equally important in creating difficulties, how- ever, was the occasionally self-righte- ous spitefulness this general apathy created among the staff members of the Record. The response to negligence on the part of others was, Well, if they don ' t care, I ' ll be damned if I will. But as you can see, the Record has been printed, and (surprisingly) it ' s quite good. The traditional overall or- ganization works very nicely with the unusual layout, which in turn com- pensates for the unpredictable quality of the photographs. But the guts of any yearbook are the articles, and though they range from the highly personal to the strictly factual, they ' re all here. Page 104 rather than two, hours of preparation on the average for each hour of classes. Thus, if the student has fif- teen hours of classes a week, he must spend an additional sixty hours a week in prepar- ation for them, which aver- ages out to eight hours of such preparation per day from Monday through Fri- day, with ten hours per day on week-ends. These calculations are based on six hours per work the revue One of the most unlikely collections of individuals on campus, The Revue ap- pears in print occasionally, and as a group almost never. It ' s difficult though to separate the one from the other, since the Board (here pictured) consists of those who have been published. This unlikely system for getting a magazine out has worked over the past few years because (and only because) one or more writers have also liked doing the rest of the job. Without an Ideal (mag- azine) to hold the group together, luck determines the publication date, With Put Barber as Editor, it has worked out ok — but he ' s probably a better paste- up man than writer, and only his ar- rogance ever got him published in the first place. Such as it is though the Revue has man- aged to get itself into print once or twice a year since the beginning. It will probably continue to do so — if only to satisfy the vanity of itself. whrc of normal preparation, you will remember. But many professors assign much much more than this six hours of normal work per week. No, it ' s not so simple, after all. When a student is so ex- hausted from studying irre- gular French verbs that all he wonts to do is either to go to bed or get drunk, it ' s not that simple. When a student has twenty-five hours of reading per week to do in There were, at the time when this pho- tograph was taken, perhaps a dozen officers of WHRC. The number that were wiUing to trudge down to the satellite station to have their picture took is a good indication of the activity of the station for the first part of this year. Great things began to happen to the station second semester under the lov- ing and tireless attention of Rick Van Berg and Lance Jackson. The station began to re-assert itself as a permanent and important organization on campus, and they hove high hopes of being able to go FM next year, so that Bryn Mawr and the surrounding community will be able to hear them. The station has undergone renaissance after renaissance even in the four years that 1 have been here, all doomed al- most from the start to utter failure. This latest one seems to be of less transient importance. The revitalization is sup- ported by money and devotion, both new elements in station relations. The station could become a major part of campus life; it should become so in the near future, as things stand now. one course, when he has for more than a hundred pages of typescript to hand in with- in a week, it ' s not that sim- ple. When I speak of organized extra-curricular activities in this jeremiad, I mean such groups as the NEWS, WHRC, or the Orchestra, as opposed to un-organized ac- tivities, by which 1 mean the constant bull sessions and small parties both stag and co-ed which occur ubiqui- philosophy club I didn ' t realize that Haveriord hod a Philosophy Club until I sow this pic- ture, which is certainly worth a thous- and words in determining the charact- ers of the four students in it. I am told that they hold occasional dinner meetings and have speakers afterwards. And more power to them. In the concern with the demise of or- ganizations the small, quiet, but never- theless flourishing activities are some- times disregarded. tously on campus. When a student stays up until dawn in a bull-session, is he wast- ing his time? Probably not, yet the student who stays up night after night in such ac- tivities may justly be accus- ed of not organizing his time properly. To survive, the Haverford student must de- velop some sense of values. He must learn what work must be done and what work can be finessed, when he can horse around and when €hess club Similar to the Philosophy Club in lack of conspicuousness is the Chess Cliob. Under the guidance of Steve Ettinger, the Chess Club holds cm annual cam- pus-wide tournament to determine the best chess player on campus. This year ' s winner, Mike Werner, is to be seen (naturally) in the Bridge Qub picture. The Club held five meets with colleges in the area this spring and made a very presentable showing for itself. BT ■■■■ mtmmw I H ■ a r- j| Ha=!±== ; I g ' -g ' == Hi ' ■ fc Page 108 he must study - in short, when he can get away with it, and when he can ' t. The faculty members are right: he must learn to organize his time. When a student joins an or- ganized extra-curricular ac- tivity, he signs away definite periods of time for months in advance. The Orchestra, for example, meets on Wed- nesday night, and it meets every Wednesday night. A weekly radio show on WH- bridge club The Bridge Club is another small but happy club on campus. They hold oc- casional tournaments on Sunday after- noon in the Coop, don ' t bother any- body, and hove a good time. This pic- ture would indicate that the members all live together in Leeds, and one won- ders just why they seem impelled to leave those happy surrounding for the uncertain hominess of the Coop. A-JL Pago 109 RC must be broadcast every week. Many students are a- fraid to box themselves in this way. They have periods of relaxation (especially at the beginning of the semes- ter) during which they do little work, and they have Hell Weeks (especially at the end of the semester) in which they work continuous- ly twice around the clock at a stretch. Nor is the actual amount of work only hindrance to varsity club The Varsity Club consists caitomatical- ly of all those on campus who have won a varsity letter, so the organiza- tion ' s theoretic membership roll is quite impressive. While the Club ' s accomplishments this year have been somewhat less impres- sive, the members formed around Presi- dent Chuck Conn long enough to give a dance in Founders and to agree to wear their black sweaters with the red H. Like the members of the Band, they take part in their sports activities for the pure fun of it, and their club reflects pleasant humor, some disorganization, and lots of good will, without really ac- complishing much. Page llCl trench club Haverford activities, over- bearing as this problem sometimes seems. More classes meet at night every year, and this year the arts and services program began holding evening sessions. Students are kept out of ac- tivities because they have classes at night which may even be required for their major. Wednesday and Thursday evenings are tradi- tionally kept free for such activities, but encroach- The French Cliib is an excellent ex- crmple of an organization which exists in name only. The lack of structure and the general isolation of the club may be seen to advantage in this picture, which is taken near Scull House. Tony Vincent, the proprietor of that magnificent automobile, claims to be the president of the French Club, though one questions the relevance of calling someone a captain if he doesn ' t have a ship. ments even on these days become increasingly fre- quent- every year. A substantial majority of Haverford students go on to some kind of graduate study. Most gr iduate schools do not even ask for a list of one ' s extra-curri- cular activities, organized or otherwise. They are in- terested solely in grades and recommendations. They re- gard extra-curricular activ- ities strictly as leisure-time german club The Spanish and German Clubs ore virtually the only two active depart- mental clubs on campus. They are both aided by the fraternity of their respec- tive houses, Williams and Yarnall, and by the liveliness of their presidents, Bob White and Jim MacRae. The activities of the two clubs are sim- ilar. They give parties; they occasion- ally present plays. They combine with whatever Bryn Mawr Spanish and Ger- man enthusiasts present themselves. (Continued on next page) Page 112 pastimes. And at Haver- ford we have demonstrated that there is theoretically no leisure time. I think that neither the administration nor the faculty would seri- ously deny the immense value of extra-curricular ac- tivities in directing and re- fining the student body ' s energies and talents. But what is to be done? The de- cision-makers at Haverford allow the graduate school ' s conception of the ideal stu- spanish club (Continued from preceding page) Both ore low pressure organizations of an impermanent nature, and both are in danger of going the way of the French Club if leaders do not present themselves to replace the present grad- uating presidents. If someone is inter- ested, the clubs will continue to thrive. If no one happens to have the time, two more Haverford traditions will bite the dust, and the faculty will add two more notches to their pistol handles. dent to dominate their thinking. I thought that everybody knew all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. But must we re- sort to platitudinous phrases to illustrate to both faculty and administration, who are equally culpable, the dam- age they are doing to Haver- ford in their overriding con- cern for academic quantity? I wonder how much longer the Haverford student will be able to differentiate be- math etc. This undistinguished agglomeration of students represents an unknown num- ber of organizations with cabalistic names like SPU, CRC, YF, and the like. The young man on the left is Haverford ' s Mathematics Club — and more powers to him. drama club tween what is valuable in his studies and what is not. Despite his professions to the contrary, all of the work assigned by a professor is valuable to that professor, and his enthusiasm for it rubs off on the students. The student then feels guilty if he cannot do his work with some degree of com- pleteness. The professor gives the grades and thus has the upper hand. The student who must present In a formal sense, the Drama Club has no existence as a true club ; between plays, it exists only potentially, as a list of names from which the abilities and talents necessary for the produc- tion of a play can be assembled. To a certain extent, the Drama Club is re- created ad hoc for each play. The con- tinuity of the club is assured in part by its officers, but chiefly by the person- ality and talents of Robert Butman. Bob, as the permanent and profession- al director of the Drama Club, is artis- tically responsible for each production; this responsibility extends far beyond merely running the rehearsals. He at- tends rummage sales to find costumes, and canvasses antique shops for props; he has a set designed — or designs it himself — and sees that it is built in time; and he must soothe or stimulate the frequently erratic and aberrant per- sonalities of his actors and production (Cont ' d on next page) his transcript to the world in the future has no choice but to be cowed, no choice but to work like Hell and to try to fool the professor in- to believing that what has been assigned has been done. The whole academic set-up at Haverford is turning from one of mutual endeavor to one of mutual deceit. To halt the progress, much must be done and done fast. Evening classes should be abolished. The movie and crew. But if Bob is the mainspring of each play, he is also the primum mobile of the Drama Club itself. In the seven or eight years of his directorship, he has fostered the growth of a collection of costumes, from furs to hats, from Ren- aissance gowns to a ringmaster ' s uni- form, which would stand any repertoire company in very good stead indeed. He has evolved what amounts to a star system of training a few actors and actresses quite extensively over the four-year period of their local ca- reers. While this system often leads to charges of favoritism and unfairness, it does mean that a competent perform- ance of a Shakespeare play can be achieved in only four weeks. Beneath Bob in the hierarchy are the officers of the Drama Clubs of Haver- ford and Bryn Mawr; the officers serve chiefly to recruit and organize the mem- bers of the Club who will act in the (Cont ' d on next page) Pag© 116 art series should be exam- ined to see whether they solve the entertainment problem on campus or mere- ly compound it. But main- ly, the amount of work as- signed to the student must be controlled, even in the courses of our very good professors. But as a student at Haver- ford, or in most cases even as a former one, I can ' t do a damned thing. And those who can, unfortunately don ' t. play, build the set, sew costumes, de- sign the posters, ctnd sell the tickets. The president of the Haverford Drama Club this year was Peter Lary. The production work obviously de- mands a high level of dedication, for the hours are long and the rewards intangible. Haverford students usually demonstrate a remarkable lack of self- lessness in this respect. With the excep- tion of a few men like Bob Munger and Dave Lerner, the enthusiasm and the muscle for building the sets this year came from Bryn Mowr College. Chris Glass designed a magnificent set for the winter production, All Swell that End Swell, in which Peter Lory, ' 63, played Bertram; Andreas Lehner, ' 63, PoroUes; and which introduced promis- ing freshmen, Munson Hicks and How- ard Bush. The production was given in honor of the retirement of Arthur Colby Sprague. The fall play was Moliere ' s Misanthrope. (Cont ' d on next page) fC Collection speakers seem compelled to apologize both for themselves and for Haverford College by remark- ing at the outset on compulsory attendance at Collec- tion and on the captivity of their audience. Apparently, the speakers suspect that their audience blames them for compulsory attendance for they often attempt to palliate their presence with a prepared joke about captive audiences. For exam- ple, Judge Bazelon prefaced his excellent talk on morality and criminal law with an absurd anecdote about a condemned man who, on the even of his electrocution, was saluted by his priest with the comment, ' ' More power to you! . Embarrassed by com- pulsory attendance, no speaker this year had the courage of last year ' s Milton Friedman who, deploring compulsion in assemblies as well as in economics, halted his speech after attendance had been taken in order to give students a gratuitous exit. In magnanimously apologizing for captive audiences, the be knighted lecturers fail to realize that Collection has captured (granted for a price) them, too. Unlike the weary sophomore, they cannot sleep. Unlike the the bored senior, they cannot yawn and unlike the harassed freshman they certainly cannot read Superman comics. Their captivity is even deeper. Both by themselves and by their audi- ence, they are expected to produce a co gent, perceptive, witty and informative talk. In escaping from the imprisonment of having to talk, they find themselves in the firmer capti- vity of having to parry questions from the eager, searching, clutching, and sleepy Haver- ford mind. The question period is puncti- liously heralded. The speakers apologize for distorting the topic and confusing the audi- ence and then affirm the validity of their in- terpretations. A ripple of applause runs through half of the audience, signalling to the unattentive second half that the gladiators of the intellect will soon collide. To this unat- tentive half the question period extends three promises of amusement. First, is the hope that the speakers, a student, or, best of all, a pro- fessor will say something stupid. Second, the speakers, a student or a professor may say something funny. The third promise of be- musement is the one most often fulfilled. This is the sight of our president peering desperate- ly into the audience, searching through the balcony and frantically looking behind the pillars for an anxious questioner. Questions are signs of attentive audiences; attentive au- diences are signs of speakers ' successes. If qustions are signs of successes, this year ' s speak- ers just as those of the past, have been fairly successful. John Ciardi, Ralph Flanders, Taylor Grant, Wallace MacCaffrey and Gerald Freund highlighted the first semester ' s list of speakers. Mrs. Hilger Ezerman ' s ' cello spoke bril- liantly; her encores answered any potential questions. The second semester ' s program was launched auspiciously when Judge David Bazelon overcame his stereotyped opening to provide, perhaps, the year ' s most provocative talk by arguing that men from un- equal environments should not be treated as equals before the law. The captive judge showed his equally confined audience that phy- sical incarceration need not be intellectual imprisonment. CAPTIVE SPEAKERS WEIGHTY MIS H jf ' fi ' , •-j. ' - • d 1 that Meeting at Haverford is not a Quaker Meet- ing, and that therefore there can be no relevant question as to whether a compulsory religious observance is morally right. Thereby, the reason- ing, runs, the chief conscientious objection to Meeting is answered. This assertion is made in the face of the fact that as this is being written, the last twelve consecutive speakers in Meeting have been Quakers (and incidentally, none has been a student). If Fifth Day Meeting is not a Quaker Meeting, there are a great many Quakers who do not know it ; and I think we can say that the issue of compulsory religious obsei vance is not yet closed. But I am not inclined to argue about such mat- ters of moral principle: agreement on such mat- ters is difficult, because principles do not change so easily as does knowledge, and argument is more difficult when premisses are in question. The best way to say something intelligent about Meeting is to talk in practical terms. Facts are harder to dispute, though it has been done. The question is only this : Right or wrong, does Meet- ing serve its purpose? Nobody in the Administration can fully un- derstand why students are reluctant to sit in meditative silence and introspect for half an hour five times a semester. Surely there is no diffi- culty in this. Students, on the other hand, can- not understand why it is important to sit still in this particular place at this particular time and meditate (because the Meeting House in its usual Thursday morning state is a singularly poor place to meditate) ; particularly they find that there is indeed difficulty in enduring the barrage of platitudes which await them every week, and particularly they resent the attitude of those who at times have seemed to feel that meditation un- til (exactly) 11 :30 is inspiration enough to speak. Such inspiration must at best be abortive. Meeting is one of the great divisive factors in a community whose members have all too little in common. The stubborn refusal of stu- dents to maintain at least a respectful silence confronts the stubborn refusal of the Adminis- tration to consider changes in Meeting instead of waiting for some sort of miraculous change in students. It is a sign of defeat that the rationale for Meeting is the argument that our enrolling at Haverford was a tacit agreement to attend Meeting, and that refusal to attend Meeting now would be break- ing the agreement. This old argument, happily not used much any more, fails in two respects. In the first place, students realize they are obligated to attend Meeting un- til excused from the agreement by the other party to it; they are not, though, obli- gated to like it, and they are free to object to it. In the second place, and more to the point, if there is no better reason for having Meeting than that we have agreed to it, then it might as well be dropped. One is tempted to point to Meeting as a failure in student-Administration rela- tions. However, the situation is more complicated because the Administration is not the authority that is bringing us to the Meeting House on Thui-sday. A speaker who should know said this year in Meeting: . . . the College feels it is important for us to be here. Who or what the College is, nobody knows. There is no reason for believing that they have any good idea of what the problems concerning Meeting are, or how to handle them. Perhaps the most serious indictment of Meeting has been made by some student Quakers. One of them wrote recently: Fifth Day Meeting at Haverford is probably damaging to Quakerism ... In seeking to the lowest common denominator we have escaped religion ... I am opposed to our thinking that we have best served Quakerism or campus religious life by using ... a nearly dead institution. True, most Meetings amount to what I should think Quakers would consider sacrilege. It is hard to imagine that any religious organization would long allow its worship service to be treated with constant and systematic disrespect. I should think they would want to take some ac- tion — pacifism does not entail passivity. Quite aside from the question of whether Meeting is a good, bad, or indifferent thing, it is a problem, or at least an annoyance to everybody involved. The importance of Meeting is that it does have potential. The Meeting we had after Jon Crum died was the best tribute we could give Jon, and a moving experience for those who participated — and not all of us who did were Quakers, or even in- terested in religion. And the Meeting we had after the Horror Show with Connecticut College was just what everybody needed. Douglas Steere once said that Meeting is not so much a place to air opinions as to formulate them — we have seen it used success- fully for both purposes. But very, very seldom. A number of suggestions concerning innovations in Meeting have been offered — most of them by students. We could get rid of it entirely ; we could dismiss from it those who can present good reasons for not wanting to go ; we could require only freshmen and sophomores to go ; we could institute other activities of a I ' eligious nature. None of these suggestions makes everybody happy ; but it is not sufficient reason for rejecting a suggestion for improvement that the suggestion is not perfect. Not sufficient reason, that is, unless the status quo itself, however inadequate, becomes an object of veneration — et circenses Sometime in February of every year someone sets out with alarums and excursions to ' ' improve social life at Haverford. Few of these projects end in much success. And yet the same old formulae reap- pear, the same high-sounding sen- timents are re-expressed, and the same inertia settles in for a long winter ' s nap. The culprit is the Honor Sys- tem I Because Haverford men can have girls in their rooms any night of the week, they aren ' t very inter- ested in the old standby of less priv- iledged campuses— the ' Weekend . And because they have a perfectly good (though often not too ele- gant) place to ' take their dates after the play show concert, they aren ' t very interested in formal ' ' dry parties. And because they give excellent parties in their suites entries rooms, they aren ' t very interested in lounge affairs. Social life at Haverford is bound to be different from that at Prince- ton-if Haverford wasn ' t bored by a Princeton weekend, most Haver- ford students would be at Prince- ton. But this all doesn ' t mean that Haverford doesn ' t have a flourish- ing social life - it does. And that doesn ' t mean that it couldn ' t be improved - it could. But by no number, however large, of vest- pocket Big Ten Weekends. The simple truth is, no-one ' s going to go. A different kind of event, and a much more informal presenta- tion, are the key qualities that make up a successful weekend here —for anything social on the Haver- ford campus has to be worthwhile per se— it won ' t be successful be- cause it ' s an excuse for seeing a girl. This puts a pressure on the Art ' s Series, and on the Movie Series, and on plays and concerts- they have to be good. And in gen- eral, in my memory, they ' ve been good and becoming better. There is, however, something disturbing about the Haverford community grouping itself in a trance about the flickering blue box of imported entertainment. Perhaps the reason for this con- centration on the passive can be found in Haverford ' s much touted quality: in the first place, most of us are more and rightly interested in other forms of activity than the performing arts; in the second place, even those of us who are in- terested in putting on a good show have got too much work to do! This combination of motivations creates more and more interest in the release that requires no prep- aration. And it creates the com- munity of isolated, desperate in- dividuals Haverford is fast on the way to becoming. The other side of Haverford ' s social life exhibits this same em- phasis on the spontaneous release -here the activity is intense, but scarcely more communal. The twist party in Leeds or the Folk Sing in Founders are big, noisy, a little drunken, and very definitely spontaneous— and each of us at- tends to be entertained by the oth- ers, and incidently, to entertain them. But not to work together on something challenging, or com- plex. Social life at Haverford is social in the psychologist ' s mean- ing of the term-but hardly in the sense ChoUy Knickerbocker means. Improving it is much more com- pl icated than opening the Coop on Saturday nights. Gentlemen, this is your class history. You may not like it. 1 write little about The Class and less about Historyl 1 decline the presumption of a public WE, the archetypal Jarvis Pugh, the collective mask o the scarlet and the black, the tarewell collage — where mouths and integrities are gleed and clubbed together with elegiac and stick, sentiment: the golden haze of college days . . . drink her down . . . waukie wauki wau. • -i What 1 do write about {this may seem the greater presumption is myself, or rather the sounds of myself, which 1 hope I have the talent to orchestrate into evocative melody. My combo for this one-time stand is small, maybe a little too rafiish, contains a tolling gong, a pair of frenetic bongos, and a sometimes lyric violin — in tune, out, somberly mellow, clash discord. All very funky. Swing along when you can, man. Quaker! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! I begin with a football cheer. I ' m standing behind a chicken-wire fence made of galvanized ironic watching Our Team in its Last Game. The Thanksgiving Game with Swarthmore. It drizzled and they shone. Perversely perhaps. I scale the grim slashings of our golden boys through mud, cold and futility into a mode maybe worth the reading. 1 begin with the base clef of curiosity. Why did they dodt. Fighting and continuing, three years four, not for games anymore but for a goal and against zeroes. A single touchdown is a moral victory. Here would be the final transvaluation of part-time reverie and permanent water-behind-the-kneecap.Because they put in ONE HUNDRED PER CENT OF THEMSELVES. Name this religion, brother. Name this commitment. And respect it, because it ' s hard to be a football jock at this College of Intellectual Quality. Derided, scorned, ignored, there is little status in football, only evanescent heroics. Except maybe among the jocks them- selves, a kind of Marine bootcamp ethic: here ' s where we separate the men from the boys. But still this doesn ' t explain it all and in my mind this Trial congruents itself more with Sisyphus than Hercules. QBut we should be careful here. For example, go up and ask Joe Schulze Hey Man, are you a Sisyphisian? and he ' ll probably correct your pronunciation. Let ' s go back to the interpretation of religion and commitment. But 3i Jl ■!ti m ■v. ' what kind? 1 think first o the laith o the Old Testament patriarchs and threaten blasphemy when my mind wanders to the Night o Victory and mighty Joe Schulze, eaglespread aims and hoarse voice, standing on the dining room table, screaming WE DID IT FOR YOU! WE DID IT FOR YOU! Tumult and pandemonium. I think o Moses coming down Sinai mountain. I ' m impressed. To win now alter those paintul desert years. But I remember quickly that I ' m still standing behind the chicken-wire fence, not in the Promised Land. The evening changes into dull carouse and baccanal. The Tablets of Commitment (PUT IN ONE HUNDRED PER CENT OF YOUR- SELVES i into a Golden Calf. It is unjust to fashion Haverford ' s melody out of its football team or Joe Schulze (I kinda like him by the way). The tone of our Class is not Commitment or even anti-Commitment, but a curious unresolve, neither behind nor in front of the chicken-wire, but straddling it. We are part of a Suspended Generation, in a state of mediation and uncertainty, the psychological model of ourselves is not Mailer ' s psychopath nor Rockwell ' s megalomaniac but the neurasthenic. An extreme statement, you think? Let me ask you this. What are you gonna be doing — nof next year I know, you ' ll be tucked away in grad school — but five years from now. Most of the people I know in the class don ' t know. What will be will be. All stated with a sense of tiredness and exhaustion, very little angst. When we almost had our Gotterdammerung over Cuba in the fall, five students went down to City Hall to picket a protest. The rest tried to forget about it, went on as if everything ' s normal, studying for Art History exams and playing pingpong. Going on as if everything was normal. But perhaps secretly all of us are listening desperately (and this is what is tiring US ' ) listening for the sounds of our changing society and civilization, hoping that they will be the cries of a healthy child and not the death-rattle of a corpse. Permissive sleep. Dawdling projects and endless extensions. Time as a deadline refuses to articulate itself. Student government. Freedom. Freedom. The fantastic surplus of freedom. Debauch and alcoholics. The amplified blare of Flay Charles: You have one life and when you ' re dead . . . you ' re done feeding like worms the gaping beak of our fledgling hedonism. The good times. The great moments. The bittersweet (kJ iiuits of wasted time and injured eternity. Protective sleep. We are the incubated and the isolated. Feedingtime in the diningroom how alike we look. At this the Smith Brother Quakers hanging in staid series above us must wryly smile. Food and laces — bland. How much We hunger lor Characters and construct them Irom the Administration and Faculty: Caselli, Mama Nugey, Cad Deanbury, Sam the Counterman, the Italiano maids. How unbearable Haverlord would be ii we could only confront ourselves and the uncluttered ( and empty) minds of Organization Men. But our hunger lor color and salt, like Victorian readers of Dickens, tells us what we are missing by not living in the festering center of an urban community with subway stations and attempted rapes and human wrecks. We miss danger and counter-momentums and the insistent now. The animal in us needs this so we people this corner of our mind v ith second-hand adventures bright and controllable as hot stickle buns. And spend our time with the important things: our pleasures and our budding human values. But it may be that the song I sing is only my own. Many of you may not give a damn about Haverford ' s trees. Or not see human values as milk. (The Senior Class show concerned itself with monastic stone and oppressiveness — this is another way of looking at Haverford ' s calming aura.) The point. The mah nishtanoh. What makes Haverlord boys DIFFERENT from other college boys is this calm, even when they appear or try to appear frenetic. We are encouraged to be lacksadaisical and un-professional and un-lvy league. This is source of our charm and our weakness. This may indeed be Our Generation ' s Disease. I offer no prognostics. Still there is value in honing my socio-cultural scapel with the particular meat of Haverford. What does Haverford ' s metabolism do to us that our Culture and Ourselves do not? I jab around with the blade, linally answers gurgle out red and strong into this melody: Haverlord. Haverford. You great green warm wonderful breast! How good your milk is in the springtime o our curiosity when we drink with wonder the endless ways ol whys. Why Huck can ' t tell a lie. Why Sons make poor lovers. Why Pigs must be killed Why you can ' t suck dry a man and throw away the peel. Why you can ' t ignore the complexities inherent in the verbal icon. Why. Why. Why. Banging on the screwed-tight oil-tubes ol our becauses, bursting the seams, surprising us with our exudings. Raw Sienna and saucy vermillion. You tried to teach us to catch it all in analytic containers — Blatz beer can, cokebottle, retort beaker and condenser, teacup and saucer, and delicate crystal stein in etch intricate — each had his own. But the idea was to catch it. Human values. Catching human values under the bland shade and safe shelter of Haverford Park. The attending eye of the green mama. Alma Mater. Permissive. Protective. Calming with its vegetative rhythm and its tickling fog. It is the trees. The grand majestic trees that pat our heads with branchlets. Calming blessings. Calm and lull until we find ourselves sleeping with our eyes open. And the snore of the outside hometown world can ' t wake us up. Rose, Margolis, Werner, So This year ' s Students ' Council un- equivocably assumed responsibility for the enforcing of the Code of Student Responsibility, the first time in our experience here that a Council has done so. Until this year, the student body has looked upon the Council as much as a traffic officer as a judge. The Ursinus Weekend affair demonstrated that the Council could exert con- siderable au- thority not only over budgets and concessions but also over vir- tually every area of student activ- ity at Haver- ford academic and social. When this new role of the Coun- cil was fully realized — that the Council was not only the campus ' servant but also its mentor — re- spect for the Council increased. Yet some were irritated by the arrogance of the Council in invest- ing themselves with so much pow- er. The feeling was not helped by the Council itself, which said in ef- fect — indeed, certain Council members were heard to say quite specifically — that, right or wrong, the Council was boss man on the Haverford totem pole, a body whose dictates might admittedly be misguided, but one whose dictates had to obeyed. But the Council, arrogant or oth- erwise, now held the reins with little fear of stu- dent objection on an organized basis. Disgrunt- led students could only ob- serve with grim satisfaction that the Council members had given them- selves an extra- ordinarily full schedule in a college where free time is often illicitly borrowed from study periods. The members of the Council have had a busy year, perhaps busier than in recent memory. In some part, the length of time spent in the Council Room is a tribute to the Council ' s devotion; in part it is an Bazelon, !§!onnenborii, !§!pen nnenborn. Williams. Wood indiction of the unwieldiness of the group as a whole when a decision had to be reached. The Council spent hour after hour in slow de- liberation of both honor system trials and crepe paper for beer parties, careful consideration of both the new budgeting procedures and the advisability of Freshman beanies during Customs week, — in short, spend- ing all too much of its time pick- ing fly specks out of the pep- per when there were more im- portant things to be done. Because the Council failed to budget its time with much sense or discretion, the reason they were able to accomplish as much as they did must be attributed to the fact that they were willing- to de- vote vast periods of time to Council meetings, far more than most Councils in the past. With the ever-increasing work load at Haverf ord, there is a limit to the amount of time members can de- vote to Council affairs. This year ' s Council spent the time needed to do their job successfully and thor- oughly, however cumbersomely. But future Councils may not have such enormous periods of time. The Council moved in the right direction when, under the aegis of Arthur Wood and Aldo Caselli, the administra- tion was given a much larger role in budgeting the four largest campus organi- zations. Further instances of such voluntary abdi- cation of aut- hority may be necessary in the future if the Council is to re- main a useful and fair govern- ing agency. The Council ' s decision to take on the responsibility for the Code of Student Responsibility may be, in the long run, be a very poorly advised one. cer, Elliot, Gutman, Manoff Parent ' s Day began slowly. The parents ar- rived at Roberts, received maps and programs, exclaimed over the weather, were given direc- tions, then straggled off through the rain to see their children perform in Chase and Sharpless. Lunch did not raise anyone ' s spirits. Parents and students stood in line breathing the fetid air of the fieldhouse and shivering in the drafts of cold air which entered with the carloads of food from founders. Parental vists often catch the student in a bind: the presence of parents embarrasses him with his fellows, and the presence of students constrains him with his parents. One freshman with whom I happenfcd to oe eating lunch solved this problem by suddenly saying, A PROPOS of nothing, and to no one in particular, Ben Jonson, Alexander Pope, a:.d the other men of the eighteenth cen- tury, were very witty and intelligent, but — a melancholy pause — they lacked something, that something which would have made them great. After a puzzled silence, someone suggested that we adjourn to the stadium. The weather could not have been worse. A strong wind flung bursts of icy rain across an al- ready muddy field. The game began before a hand- ful of spectators. Usually the Haverford team man- ages to convey at the line of scrimmage the im- pression that it has collectively forgotten its sig- nals and would like to request a postponement for further discussion. But on this particular day they snapped out of the huddle with much mor assurance, or so it seems in retrospect. But the game was dull and full of punting. I walked up to the soccer field where the issue was more promising. The LaSalle players slipped and cursed as if they wsre on ice, but Haverford play- ed without a mishap. A victory here was clearly in the offing. Nothing seemedd to be happening over on the football field. The biggest burst of action occured al the end of the first half when everyone, players and fans, made a dash to get out of the rain. At this point. Parent ' s Day was a miserable failure. The games had attracted almost no one. Rain ruled out tours of the campus. I did not think it likely that the student concert, diverting as it might be, would by itself ' satisfy the parents who had taken the trouble to visit Haverford. I left the soccer game, in which the Fords had established a comfortable lead and walked back to the football field. A Ursinus back took a hand- off, tried to turn his end, then slipped and fell without being touched. In disgust he threw the ball into the mud, and, on the sidelines, it seemed that the home team might manage a scoreless tie. Nice, but certainly no reason for elation. I re- turned to soccer. There the continuing rout monopolized my at- tention. Suddenly I was distracted by persistent cheering from an unlikely source. Save for a cluster of muddy players, the football field was almost deserted, but the noise was undoubtedly coming from that direction. The Ford ' s goalie and fullbacks were as startled as I was. While they peered through the gloom toward the football field, a LaSalle lineman dribbled in unmolested and tallied the Explorer ' s only goal of the day. But no one cared. We were all preoccupied with news of a more striking occurance: Haverford had scored a touchdown. The final act was about to begin. But first, a bit of comic relief. One of the students who was supposed to present a talk on college life had not finished his speech. With much muttering, paper shuffling, and furious scribbling, he toiled away at the side of the Common Room while the others tedked. Parents eyed him surreptitiously. His speech, the text of which was completed with a flourish as he was introduced, was a fable, prop- erly weighty and opaque. He certainly is brilliant, isn ' t he? marvelled one awed mother. I nodded my solemn assent. The dining room has been the scene of many strange and bizarre meals in the last four years, but there was something special and unique about the insanity of dinner on Parent ' s Day. The noise was deafening. I noticed one small redheaded freshman, with a glazed look in his eye, banging a metal tray on the back of a chair. Empty pitch- ers rose and fell in unison. The football and soc- cer players sat together at one long table. A bottle of wine was making its ceremonial way from hand to hand. Everyone was excited. I sat with a group of my classmates who, I was sure, regarded football as one of the least important, the most irrelevant, institutions at Haverford. In a moment of lucidity I noted that the tablecloth was covered with broken glass. Page 130 There were speeches from the stars of the day. Their remarks were boisterous but not without irony, and everyone applauded noisily. I was hap- py not because the honor of Haverford had been vindicated and her enemies at last humbled, but because some friends of mine at last could enjoy a Saturday evening free from the humiliation which on previous occasions they had been unable to escape. I hardly noticed the line of girls who looked on apprehensively from the side of the dining room in which no one was bothering to eat any food. And I could hardly believe my ears when a mother seated near me leaned over and petulantly asked her son, What ' s so important about an old foo tball game? The celebrating continued into the evening, but I was out of range of the real excitement. At midnight I did walk over to Union where I was puzzled by a strange, chopping noise. Firewood, I thought as I returned to Leeds. The hysterical response to the Parent ' s Day atrocities was inappropriate. Groups of outraged citizens circulated petitions damning the guilty. And on the other side, the offenders, in whispers almost of self-accusation, decried what they called an inquisition. The resulting debate, which com- ically centered on the dichotomy between free- dom and responsibility, failed to isolate a man- ageable issue. This tedious exploration into ethical implica- tions tended to obscure the real problem and its solution. The privacy of a group of students had been violated. The Student ' s Council, after wres- tling with myriad constitutional scruples, dealt out punishments which, if they entirely satisfied only a minority of students, at least did much to restore the dignity of the injured parties. Haverford is proud of being blase, proud of the irony with which it views just about every- thing. But when we beat Ursinus, the school for- got itself. We all acted as if we were in the (ugh) Big Ten. Then came the morning after, and it was almost as if each studenl had to assure his neighbor that the whole incident was a mistake, that spirit was indeed an evil thing, that we really had not meant to get so excited. The violent reaction to the escapades of a few drunken stu- dents was almost like an expiation. We were Bab- bitts who spent Saturday night in some forbidden brothel, then, in Church the next morning, joined in the fervent, and the reassuring, condemnation of the sins of the flesh. The events of Parent ' s Day to the contrary, neither football nor drinking is a very important part of Haverford life. Much energy was wasted in debating the desirability of sports, the morality of alcohol, the merits of certain students. A more fundamental inquiry might have dealt with the question of why students, when drinking has relax- ed their defenses, immediately think of breaking something, and why so many other students are so provoked by the resulting damage that they want in turn to destroy the offenders. Thus I think that I shall remember Parent ' s Day, 1963, not for the football games that we won, not for the celebration which followed the game, not even for the debate on the code of student responsibility which was caused by these events. Instead, I will remember drunken students ruin- ing books and breaking furniture, and sober stu- dents, in the grip of a frenzied indignation, intent in crucifying the hapless transgressors. There is nothing wrong with athletics at Haverford, imd drinking here is not excessive. But every once in a while, we are provided with an insight into the primitive kind of rage and hotility which under- lies so many aspects of college life. Such insights are not reassuring. Perhaps that is why everyone ignored them in trying to account for the dis- turbing events of Parent ' s Day. Page 131 1 iL 1 J Class Night was started in the late forties in order to raise money to pay for damage done by some Haverford pranksters during a raid on Swarthmore. Now, however, the pranks are performed on stage, and a tradition of heavy and hilarious satire has developed. This is supposed to be the night Haverford laughs at itself. But this year, only the two lower classes reflected this tradition; the Juniors and Seniors were more interested in conveying a serious message. This involves a great many diffi- culties which only the Seniors were able to overcome. The Freshman play was a somewhat confusing hybrid of Alice in Wonderland and a Students ' Council trial. Dormouse was on trial for his part in the Mad Hatter ' s tea orgy, a reference to the events following the Ursinus football game. But although the situation was rich in satiric and humorous possibilities, these were rarely realized. The satire was of a highly unspecific nature (i.e. there were no caricatures of particular people or events) while the humor consisted in pulling brassieres from a suitcase. I don ' t imagine the writers break into laughter when they pass a lingerie shop, so they should have realized that something has to be done with underwear to make it humorous. The lack of music and the uncoordinated stag- ing helped make the play appear highly unpolished. How- ever, the excellent acting I particularly Munson Hicks) and a few excellent lines ( When I make tea I make tea: and when I make water I make water ) indicate that the class will do better next year. Bryan Kurtz, of course, deserves a special award for the most enormous bosom ever seen at Haverford. The Sophomores were in the grand tradition of Qass Night: their play was remarkably disconnected — in fact, it had no recognizable plot at all. The only continuity was provided by a garbage can watching and commenting on the proceedings. But in spite of its lack of unity, the play was humorous and lively. The sex habits and speech patterns of Haverford students were mercilessly satirized, along with the faculty ( Ariel Radio is among the ten best-dressed left-wing malcontents in the countrv ) admin- istration (in the person of Smeldo Pizzeria) and kitchen staff (Ma Nookie and three black-faces). And the high point of the entire evening was the fihned segment of a Barclay date, with Stan Pritchard playing the ragtime piano, and Clay Stites battling Bob Hipkens for a hairy- legged Bryn Mawr lovely (Dave Fraser). That the fibn- ing took place between one and seven in the morning, with most of the participants in no condition to perform, indicates, again, the disorganized, though spirited character of the play. The Junior play was a mistake. Good acting simply could not make Little Reality anything but trite, nor could it make the ' message seem important or the re- worked television commercials humorous. In order to make Tony the janitor convincing at Haverford, one needs to come up with better writing than that found in the soap operas — apparently a major source of inspiration. The Seniors, very remarkably, were able to produce a successful show without one really funny line. The staging, music and sets were all perfect, and the acting was slick and smooth. The script had a plot, development and a theme. But the theme transformed the play too easily into an exercise. Neither students nor faculty ever really doubted that: If faculty and student were united in design To promote a new community of spirit and of mind We would answer to the challenge and our studies dedicate To a true concern for quality and the arts that liberate. It is usually good for a play to fight for a cause, but when the cause is chosen primarily for the play, it turns the play into nothing more than a truism. As in the Freshman and Junior shows, there was a complete lack of personal satire. There were no recogirizable students or student types and neither Father William nor his Father-Superior- Inferior bore any relatioti to Rill Cadbury or James Lyons besides analogous administrative positions. Nolle and Rig- gan won the Best Actor award, not for a parody of the Lyons-Cadbury comedy act, but for the accurate por- trayal of the ever-present Nolfe-Riggan routine. But in spite of some mis-casting (Joe Schulze was remarkably unconvincing as the sensitive outsider ) and a generally dull script, the Senior play was a success, largely because of the beautiful production and an awareness of how much moralizing could be gotten away with. The Sophomore and Senior plays, though both success- ful, were completely opposite in approach. The Sopho- mores showed what could be done with a maximum of satiric humor and a minimum of coherence and organiza- tion; the Seniors maximized organization, but minimized humor and satire. Possibly, sometime in the future, a class will produce a play equal in stature lo A la Recherche du Comet Perdu put on by the Class of 1%0. This play spoke out against expansion because the Seniors were really opposed to it: there was excellent acting, good music, unity of action and some wildly funny satire. It is unfortunate that one has to go back four years to find a suitable standard for Class Night. athletics a is The Ides of March, 1963, marked the end of an era in Haverford football. Roy Randall, head grid- iron coach since 1933, stepped down on that date and turned over the coaching reins to his long- time assistant, Bill Docherty. In 27 seasons, Roy Randall ' s teams won 63 games while losing 108; the value of Haverford football, however, could not be measured in any mathematical equation. There were some great teams (the undefeated club of 1942, for example) and some poor ones (like the last four), but the unyielding determination and courage which made Roy Randall an All-American at Brown stayed with him throughout. Randall will continue to serve Haverford as athletic director and head base- ball coach. For the last 25 years, Randall has had the de- voted service of Bill Docherty as line coach, and the ex-Temple star appears to be the man capable of leading Haverford to a football renaissance. Doch- erty adds the football portfolio to his present posi- tions as arbiter of the intricacies of the intramural world and resident pro of the Haverford C.C. The junior member of the august firm of Rand- all, Docherty, and Prudente officially opens the athletic day at 10 a.m. every morning when he sets the office coffee pot bubbling. In between )Sa: «XH:«.5«3(!GCS3a.«!«SOK30nCGOQ««SBm3S3K30nWKiC 1963-1963 making coffee, Ernie Prudente managed to turn out the best basketball team in Haverford history, help with the football and baseball coaching duties, acquire a master ' s degree at Penn, turn dozens of ectomorphic scholars into bodies beautiful, de- velop his already legendary badminton and hand- ball skills, converse with the groundskeepers in rapid-fire Italian, study enough German so that his wife and sister-in-law could no longer hide any- thing from him, and revitalize the weary Haver- fordians who turn reeling from the Jungles of Academe. Lest any stray misogynists point to the Haver- ford athletic department to support their posi- tion that men CAN run the show after all, we present the real boss of the local sportsmen, de- partment secretary Mrs. Lee Marr. Mrs. Marr and her white Rambler appear every morning at 8:45 and leave at noon and in between solve all the problems of scheduling, rosters, records, and recal- citrant managers — with a little help from the aforementioned gentlemen. The ubiquitous Richard 0. Morsch is the fifth pillar of the athletic edifice. Healer, carpenter, equipment manager, masseur, confidant, Mrizard of the whirlpool, Dick Morsch can do ten things well at once and doesn ' t appear to know the difference mt. giff triiiimrrrtif?Ttii?= iiff i?f iifttiff {iB i mm aMiMiMiiyByMMiMiMiMiMiM i MiMiiyiiiyjiMiM between the school ' s best athlete and the least talented, but aids both with a smile and consum- mate efficiency. With the seasons, many others come and go devoting part of their time to the often-unre- warding task of sending Haverford ' s athletes out into the cruel world. One of the most successful of these is the canny Scotsman, the man with the cigar and the Olympic team jacket, Jimmy Mills, whose soccer teams consistently hold their own with the likes of Princeton and Penn, not to men- tion Swarthmore. Ajos (Lou) Varga, ex-Hungarian pro, was Jimmy ' s assisant this year. Guardian of the paths at Haverford, both of the nature and cinder varieties, is cross-country and track coach Bill Breuninger, whose ever-pre- sent stop-watch may yet time a 9.6 sprinter or a 4:20 miler. Albert Adam, a great athlete and coach for 40-some years keeps the weightmen from working themselves into exhaustion in the spring while imparting his own wisdom to his fledgling shotputters, discusmen, and javelin throwers. Warren Horton had his best JV basketball team ever this winter, but the former Penn quar- terback doesn ' t seem to have mellowed a bit be- cause of it. As fiery a competitor now as he was when he and Ernie were clearing the way for Penn ' s backs, Hort has cured just about every Ford eager of severe cases of underhand layups, hook shots, and fallaway jumpers, so that Ernie could devote himself to instilling the finer points. The coach with the best racket at Haverford is, of course, Norm Bramall, now in his 36th sea- son as tennis mentor. Norm never makes any ex- travagant remarks about his charges ' strengths; their defeated opponents are usually willing to handle that chore. Henri Gordon was born in London, but still brings the Continental touch to Haverford in his duties as fencing mentor. The art of swordplay is not a primary activity in American high schools, so Henri usually starts from scratch and ends up with a host of athletes ready to stand in for Doug- las Fairbanks on a moment ' s notice. Gerald (Doc) Harter wears the hats of intra- mural supervisor, assistant football coach, and head wrestling coach, but perhaps he does more to im- mortalize the local athletes with his camera which seasonally produces the team pictures. Only the elite group of Haverford mermen know Joe MacQuillen, but the success of the Haver- ford School swimming coach with the local col- legians indicates that a trip across Railroad Ave., to the swimmers ' home-in-exile, might be a worth- while experience for Haverford sports enthusiasts. Howard Comfort and his pipe emit lai-ge clouds of smoke whether they are overseeing the con- jugation of ESSE or the protection of the Haver- ford wicket, but one suspects they might be en- joying themselves just a little bit more when en- gaged on Cope Field. Finally among the men responsible for the suc- cess of the intramural program are the capable George Leute, Howard Price, and Ray Bramall. .oecER On a gloomy afternoon on the final day of October, Haverford soccer appeared to have been buried in the Collegeville mud. The Fords had just blown a 2-0 lead to Ursinus and settled for a tie which left their record at 1-4-1. At this point, the hooters— and the coaching ' genius of Jimmy Mills— asserted themselves and LaSalle. PMC. and Swarthmore fell in decisive fashion. Final record : 4-4-1, not bad for a team which had twelve underclass lettermen, Four seniors, three of whom didn ' t play soccer until their sophomore year, paced the excellent Ford defense. They were goalie John Cole, fullback co-cap- tains Tim Rose and Joe Taylor, and halfback Pete Eddy. The hooters picked up the only Hood Trophy point of the fall season, defeating Swartmore 3-1 on goals by Ramsay Liem, Danny Hogenauer, and Tom Brown. Jo hn Cole and Dave Felsen held off the Garnet attackers A strong defense had been characteristic of Haver- ford soccer for these many years, but the offense had virtually disappeared before Hogenauer returned to revive a potent scoring punch. Ramsay Liem, Tom Brown, Keith Brinton and Bok Read helped keep the pressure on opposing goalies. Rose, Taylor, and Cole in goal effectively dis- couraged most enemy forays, while center-half Oyela- ran was a consistent standout in all departments. Oyelaran ' s penalty kick was the only goal in the sea- son ' s first victory, over Stevens. Freshman goalie Felsen played enough to assure the faithful that the net will be well guarded for three more years. The Fords were four deep at wing halfback and exhibited fine mid-field play all season. Phil Hender- son won the Haverford College soccer trophy and an Olympic try-out invitation. Pete Eddy, junior Dan Smiley, and soph Roy Haberkern sparkled on frequent occasions. Wait ' till next year is the most over-worked phrase in the Haverford sports lexicon, but in the case of the soccer team, it might be the most accur- ate. In 1962, the Ford soccermen escaped from the morass of defeat which had enveloped them since the departure of the Bandit Wall in 1960, and pro- vided the foundation for winning seasons in the im- mediate future. As long as Jimmy Mills chews dourly on his cigar and little Quaker lads boot a soccer ball around outside the meeting-house, Haverford College soccer will flourish— and both of these happy cir- cumstances appear likely to continue indefinitely. Page 141 Princeton I HAVERFORD I Franklm Marshall A HAVERFORD : HAVERFORD I Stevens Lehigh 2 HAVERFOKD Pennsylvania 4 HAVERFORD HAVERFORD 2 (tie) Urslnus : HAVERFORD 3 LaSa ' lle HAVERFORD 4 Penn Military! HAVERFORD 3 Swarthmore SEASON RECORD: 4-4-1 l lllllli m illllllll l li mi i rTTTI lli m il L lllllll iiiiiiiiiiiinu MniiiuiiHiin [iiiiiiiiMiimiiiniiiiiiiiir n iiiiiiin iiiriiiimiiirTTTTr 8oeeER SQUAD Sii y«iii i®i i s«ii««ii8ui«4iia !aaiisyia«i«« rLT- LT-T-XT-T-T- UTJUTJUlj L L irOOTIBAILL On November 3, 1962, there were earthquakes in Peru, floods in Afghanistan, supernovae in Andromeda, a new curriculum at Connecticut College— and a Haverford football victory. Roy Randall was jubilantly carried from wind-torn Walton Field after a splendid football victory in a career that had known many others. Junior halfback Johnny Aird smashed into the Ursinus end-zone in the fourth quarter to end the Fords ' 21- game losing streak begun in 1959. The Ursinus game and the strong showing against Wilkes the next week redeemed the season and proved that Bill Docherty may create a respectable football team sooner than many scholars realize. Haverford foot- ball had been a campus joke since 1959; November 3 changed all that. The victory over Ursinus had seemed in advance about as possible as a 95 in Wallace MacCaffrey ' s History II. Losses to Wagner, Dickinson, Johns Hopkins, and Hamilton had demonstrated that the Fords had desire but little else. The Ursinus and Wilkes performances radiated a golden promise which even the painful Swarthmore debacle could not dim. Only one Ford on the field against Ursinus had ever participated in a Haverford victory: captain Joe Schulze. Joe ' s fierce leadership and courageous performance rallied a team which could have quit after its drub- ,p | ll | «|ll |  | ll | B | ll | « | ll | « | lll« | ll| | ll |  | ll |  | ll| | ll l « | l ip| ll l l|l ip| ll |  |ll|« | l l|«| l l| | l l| Jj IjilaliilaliilaliilBliilBliiUliilaliiUliilaliilBliilBliilaliilaliilaliilaliil ' liilaliilaliiti Wagner 25 HAVERFORD Dickinson 26 HAVERFORD Johns Hopkins 20 HAVERFORD Hamilton AS HAVERFORD 8 HAVERFORD 4 Ursinus Wilkes 34 HAVERFORD 14 Swarthmore 60 HAVERFORD 6 SEASON RECORD: 1-6 it iaiiiiaiiii iiiiaiiiiaiiiiaiiiiaiiiiainiaiiiianiiaiiiiaiiiiiiiiiaiii[aiiiiaiii|aiii|a|ii|gl i ftilaliilaliiLlMlaliilaliilaliilaliilaliilaliilaliilaliilaliilaliilaliilaliilaliilaliilaliilal M3!§tgtgltM l ifl!gMlltlMl;tlgM gtlTl§ttl bing loss to Hamilton. Guards Ernie Northrup and Roy David were other remnants of the formidable girdiron hordes of ' 63, who departed the gym with laurels. Several promising freshman helped ignite the flame of victoiy. Among them were Danny Murphy, Mark Slot- kin, Bryan Kurtz, Keith Tunnell, and Tillman Saylor. The local linemen were bigger and more plentiful than previously, especially ends Schulze, Saylor, Tunnell, and John Tomaro, tackles Reed Fry, Bryan Kurtz, and Max Bockol. guards Roy David, Ernie Northrup, and Haigh Fox, and centers Mark Slotkin, Harrison Spencer, and Doug Spaeth. John Aird and quarterbacks Dan Murphy and Steve Dallolio paced the backfield. Gany Mitchell, George Hsu, and Chuck Lawrence were other top backs. George Sargent, for two years a star center and linebacker, had his playing career ended by a knee condi- tion, but Sarge carried on as head manager. IFQOTI AILIL §(DLJAID., 1I96Z-C33 The life of a harrier is not always a happy one, and the nature path is not always an idyllic country lane, especially during- a driving- rain in 35-degree weather. Haverford s cross-countiymen overcame these natural hazards and their opponents on four occasions last year to post a 4-6 mark, their best in several seasons. Victories came over Penn Military (twice). Johns Hopkins, and Moravian. Unlike past years, no students were lost on the courses, no search parties had to be organized and the various woodland animals were only a minor obstacle. Freshman Bob Hillier started the year off right when he followed enough of brother Dave ' s ( ' 60) footsteps to win individual honors in a rout of PMC. The top season-long perfoimer. however, was sen- ior Frank Pollard, whose hours on the course paid off with several outstanding races during the cam- paign. Captain Ed Hartman did not match Pollard ' s achievements, but the veteran distance runner still had a fine senior season. Junior Mike Nevin returned to the running wars and turned in some superb races. Underclassmen Pete Lucas. Fred Weil. Phil Van Newkirk. Bob Hillier, and Sam Hopkins all had moments of glory. Coach Bill Breuninger had one of his largest squads in years striding over the ups and downs of the 4.5 mile Haverford course. Pollard and Hartman will be hard to replace, but this form of strenuous communion with nature appears to be on its way back at Haverford. As President Kennedy and the 50- mile hike proved, cross-country is the sport of the future. 5 11 HAVI N Frank lOE aoi lOB aoi rv 40JI D 30 U AVERFORD 17 Penn Military nklin-Marshall 27 HAVERFORD D ■ ' u ■|CCr)(f-J Z e3(f o3 5 Lafayette 15 HAVERFORD 45 Lehigh 21 HAVERFORD 34 Albright 21 HAVERFORD 35 HAVERFORD 21 Penn Military 39 HAVERFORD 15 Moravian 48 HTemple 15 HAVERFORD 50 P Swarthmore 15 HAVERFORD 48 ' SEASON RECORD: 4-4 O Swart L. 3 Page 145 Doc Harter sent his little lambs out to slaughter on the wrestling mats eight times this season, but, as ' surprised opponents discovered in later contests Haverford ' s men didn ' t always meekly submit to their fate. Determination provided the Fords with no substitute for experience, however, and Haverford lost eight straight. Only the Wagner match, a 23-13 victory for the Flying- Dutchmen from Staten Island, was a strug- gle through the final bouts. Co-captain Norm Pearlstine defied all competition. Norm wrestled at whatever weight the situation de- manded and won most of his bouts. Pearlstine, a junior, will be the man to lead the Fords next year out of their wrestling doldrums. Senior co-captain Rans Fasoldt typified the Fords ' plight. Fasoldt was unable to make the weight to enter the early matches. When he joined team competition in February, Rans registered some impressive performances. Soph Fred Weil showed the greatest improvement among Haverford wrestlers this season. Charley Wol- finger, Barry Seagren, Dave Elliott, Doug Spaeth, Steve Cordi, and Chuck Holzer were other aggressive Haverford mat contenders. Of the JV tacklers. Ron Schwarz was the most promising. Page 146 o o m9«2-03 wMf m ,n , — . iM-ift i- ■ %«-.« ■ i fti-tftT ire 34 M 34 ; 31 Hopkins 27 29 ;r 23 vinitary 31 .. more 26 Page 147 Delaware 34 HAVERFORD Albright 34 HAVERFORD Urslnus 31 HAVERFORD 3 HAVERFORD 5 Drexel 29 HAVERFORD 3 Wagner 23 HAVERFORD 13 Penn Military 31 HAVERFORD 3 Swarthmore 26 HAVERFORD 6 SEASON RECORD 0-8 - g IBASrilETIBAILL ono A funny thing happened to Haverford ' s basketball team on the way to the Middle Atlantic Conference playoffs— it compiled the best season record in Haverford history, a 12-3 mark. The Fords were second in the MAC ' s Southern Division, and even two losses in the conference tourney left the final record a highly commend- able 12-5. With the exception of Drexel ' s Dragons, who handed the Fords three of their five defeats, Haverford ' s opponents found them- selves frustrated by the Fords ' 1-2-2 zone defense, which carried the locals to a place on the NCAA small-college defensive honor roll. Two big men, 6-9 Pete Dorwart and 6-6 Hunt Rawlings, and two medium-sized ones, 6-1 Capt. Jerry Darlington and 5-11 junior Eliot (Bang) Williams, were the individual standouts for Ernie Prudent but all season long the Fords maintained a fine team effort. Seven seniors and four juniors plus one precocious freshman (Rawlings) gave the Fords great experience and depth. Dorwart was the nation ' s 6th leading small-college rebounder, the MAC ' s top board-sweeper, an 18-point per game scorer, and the bane of enemy sharpshooters. Darlington was a crack team leader, averaged about 15 ppg. and turned in a superb rebounding and defensive perform- ance. Seniors Stu Levitt, Bruce Foerster, and Kent Smith each con- tributed in many ways, with Levitt ' s deadly jump shot, Foerster ' s rebounding and play-making, and Smith ' s defense highlighting their performances. Bob Ruberg and Greg Kannerstein were valuable reserves. The Fords had no problems when they wanted to break an enemy press— they just gave the ball to Bang- Williams and got out of his way. The bespectacled junior ' s dribbling, driving, and de- fense were instrumental in the team ' s late-season surge. Rich Cooper and Don Ratajczak, both juniors, were capable front-court subs with sharp shooting eyes. Murray Levin lent speed to the back- court. Rawlings was a tough rebounder when the season began and the soft-spoken Virginian showed so much all-around improvement as the campaign progressed that he was the team ' s top performer in the MAC tournament. His 22-point showing against national power Hofstra sent a chill over several court coaches who will hare to figure out how to try to stop this prodigy over the next three years. The season ' s log included many notable victories, among them two decisions over Swarthmore (one of them a double-overtime spine-tingler), a 73-55 runaway over highly-rated Franklin Marshall, and routs of Johns Hopkins and Stevens. Haverford ' s return to the Palestra, after a 30-year absence, was not the hap- piest of occasions, as Drexel took a 61-38 decision. The Ford ' s second-place finish in the MAC, based on a 9-3 league record, was the highest conference standing ever earned by a Haverford team. Warren Horton ' s junior varsity fell quickly into winning ways and ended up with a 5-3 record, the best in six years. Soph Walt Whitman and freshmen Marsh Robinson, Dave Felsen, Tillman Saj- lor, and Dave Kane were the regulars and are all outstanding varsity prospects. FIELD GOALS G 17 17 17 17 17 15 15 16 14 I I 10 II I I Att 278 228 165 98 60 84 59 53 28 13 6 13 3 Made 100 88 60 42 19 36 21 19 6 6 3 4 I Pet .360 .386 .364 .428 .315 .428 .356 .358 .214 .462 .500 .307 .333 .000 FREE THROWS Att Made Pet 42 79 36 44 REBOUNDS 66 124 59 74 I I 17 15 14 8 5 7 I .646 .637 .609 .595 .364 .590 .600 .429 .375 1.000 .430 .000 .000 .000 No 131 314 178 57 55 37 42 24 18 6 4 5 2 2 Avg 7.7 18.5 10.5 3.4 3.2 2.5 2.8 1.5 1.3 0.5 0.4 0.5 2.0 2.0 PF No 22 35 31 50 25 29 19 28 14 8 5 2 No 242 277 156 123 46 82 51 44 15 17 9 8 2 POINTS Avg 14.2 16.3 9.2 7.5 2.7 5.5 3.4 2.8 I.I 1.5 0.9 0.7 2.0 0.0 ir HAVERFORD 72 Drew 53 HAVERFORD 43 Pharmacy 52 HAVERFORD 62 John Hopkins 45 HAVERFORD 73 Penn Military 67 Moravian 69 HAVERFORD 54 HAVERFORD 72 Dre.el 61 HAVERFORD 74 HAVERFORD 55 HAVERFORD 88 HAVERFORD 65 Dre.el 59 HAVERFORD 77 HAVERFORD 73 HAVERFORD 59 Urslnus 56 HAVERFORD 38 Stevens 45 . , Delaware Valley 44 Ursinus 74 Swarthnnore 55 HAVERFORD 41 Penn Military 69 FranHln Marshall 55 Swarthmore 50 MAC TOURNAMENT BASI IETIBALIL §QIUA ID„ S Hofstra 86 HAVERFORD 56 Dre«el 61 HAVERFORD 56 SEASON RECORD: 12-3 PLAY-OFF RECORD: 0-2 TOTAL RECORD: 12 5 « V£9 ««b£lX « l «V9a « ' V9 V2 e V9 ( ■a pUJ V i  ;:«or:ec  ::«:o:: :: c« a«ocooQS3s cTWIMMINe Haverford doesn ' t have a swimming pool worthy of the name, but it very definitely does have a swim- ming team, one that has made remarkable progress during the three years since its reorganization. Joe MacQuillen ' s natators had a 2-4 record this season with some fine individual performances. The two vic- tories came over basketball nemesis Drexel and two of the losses were to powerful Temple and Swarth- more. PMC destroyed all local chances for a winning season by edging the Fords twice. 45-40. and 53-42. Captain Dave Leonard, the man who re-introduced Haverford athletes to water, completed three years as team leader with a fine season. Leonard, a free-styler. specialized in the longer distances, while John Caroll, another senior, did a fine job in the shorter races. Freshman Stan Young, specializing in the arduous butterfly, was perhaps the team ' s outstanding per- former. Other leading racers were Dick Adelmann. Ted Christy, Ion Youman, Stu MacDougal, and John Hoover. Pete Scherer was the squad ' s diver. Penn M;;:tary 45 HAVERFORD 40 Pent! Military 53 HAVERFORD 42 HAVERFORD 53 Drenel 42 HAVERFORD 50 Drexel AS Temple 57 HAVERFORD 38 Swarthmore 64 HAVERFORD 30 SEASON RECORD: 2-1 SQiUAID g iiTgiiT iitffflira5rfiiiniiir;rir ,© 4 ' M txuiu I i i i i I I i I I I i aMIMlMlliyj i M I M I MIU M I ' J I MIMIMli UiliyJIMIMItJJIMIMl F N(DII I The Ford swordsmen could only gain one victory this season, a 15-12 upset over Temple. Five other matches were closely contested, however. The Fords ' greatest strength was in foil where senior captain Charley Bemheimer and the outstanding freshman. Boh Feinland, com- peted. Bemheimer and Feinland scored three victories each to highlight the victory over Temple. Bill Mechling-, along with Bemheimer the team ' s only senior, was another foil spe- cialist who had notable success. John Eisele and Thornton Liechty were the top men in sabre, while George Couch made his varsity debut by winning two sabre bouts against Temple. Bill Shafer and John Major were coach Henri Gordon ' s epee reg- ulars, along with freshman Freeman Cottrell. HAVERFORD 5 HAVERFORD 8 Muhlenberg I Lehigh 14 HAVERFORD II HAVERFORD 13 HAVERFORD 15 Lafayette 16 .. Temole 12 HAVERFORD II Drew 18 HAVERFORD 1 Stevens 16 .... HAVERFORD II Johns Hopkins 15 HAVERFORD 12 SEASON RECORD: 1-8 Page 152 FALL WINTER INTRAMURALS The Seniors and the Juniors split the honors in the first two intramural seasons as ' 63 ' s boys triumphed in soccer and basketball while ' 64 men won in football and volleyball. Easily the top team in the intramural picture was the senior basketball squad, which compiled a 70-5 record in four years of play and was undefeated the past two years. Joe Taylor, Tim Rose, John Cole, Corky Lipez, and Dave Hunt were the stars of the squad, which managed to post an unheard-of 58-0 shutout during their senior season. The big upset came in the fall when the mighty Seniors, undefeated football champs in 1961, rushed off to a big lead and then were toppled unceremoniously in a late-sea- son collapse. Rob Riordan and Chris Filstrup were the architects of the Juniors ' upset, while Bruce Foerster, Bob Nolte, and Stu Levitt were Senior standouts. A combined Junior-Senior team trounced the Swarthmore champs. In soccer, Jerry Darlington and Paul Moyer, with the help of Roger Herzel in goal, led ' 63 to an easy win. Dan Smiley set the pace for the Junior volleyballers en route to their title. Page 153 RAYMOND W. ANDREWS LAWRENCE HERMAN AUER Rules Committee 1,2.3,4: Basketball 1,2.3: SPU 2,3: Glee Club I PUT BARBER Drama Club (set designer) 1,2, (secretary) 2; WHRC I: Honor System Committee 1,2.3. (chairman) 4: Col- lection Speakers Committee 1.2. (chairman) 3; Final Exam Committee 3: Arts Council 2: Revue (business manager) 2,3,4. (designer) 2,3.4, (editor) 4: Record (art director managing editor) 4: News (copy editor) 2. (feature writer) 4: Cross Country (manager) 3: Com- mittee to Revise the Code of Student Responsibility 4 BARRY BARLOW WHRS 2,3; Drama Club 3: Caucus Club 2.3,4 WILLIAM H. BEIK Glee Club 1,2,3,4: WHRC 3,4 TERRY BELANGER Orchestra (Manager) 1.2. (president) 3,4: Glee Club 1,2,3,4: WHRC 2. (librarian) 3.4; News 2,3,4; Record (associate editor) 4 CHARLES BERNHEIMER Fencing 1,2, (captain) 3,4: Collection Speakers Com- mittee 2,3, (chairman) 4: Class Secretary 4; Final Exam Committee 3.4 FRANCES PORCHER BOWLES Drama Club 1,2.3.4, (production manager) 2.3; Arts Council 1.2; Motorcycle Association 3.4; WHRC I JOHN CARROLL Swimming (varsity) 2,3.4; AIESEC (treasurer) 2: Col- lection Speakers Committee 3: Hammer and Sickle Club 2 JOHN COLE Golf 1,2.3, (captain) 4; Soccer 2,3.4; News 2,3; Bridge Club 1,2,3,4; Customs 2,3; Class Officer 2,3 CHARLES B. CONN, III Football I; Track 1.2.3,4; Varsity Club 2.3. (president) 4; Glee Club I; WHRC 2.3; Honor System Committee 4; Rules Committee 2,3; Customs Committee 2; Cus- toms Evaluation Committee 4; Class Night Committee 2,3,4 JOHN R. COOK Baseball 1,2,3,4; Class Night Committee 3. (treasurer) 4; Class Night 3,4; Meeting Committee 4; Social Com- mittee 3,4 ALAN TAFT CRANE Soccer (manager) 4; Cross Country 1,2; Swimming 3: Glee Club 1,2,3: Bridge Club I. (president) 3,4 DAN D. CRAWFORD Glee Club 4: Golf 3 HERBERT H. BLUMBERG JAMES DAVID BLUMENTHAL Class Night 2,3.4; Drama Club 3: Cirriculum Committee 4 DAVID CLAYTON DANEKER Class President 3,4; Glee Club 1,2,3; Freshman Club Manager 2; Class Night 2,3,4; Football 1.2; Cricket 3,4; Swimming 2; Intra-Mural Soccer 3,4; Record (sen- ior editor) 4 Page 154 HORACE F. DARLINGTON, JR. Varsity Baseball I ; Varsity Basketball 2,3, (captain) 4; J.V. Basketball I; Big Brother-Subfreshman Guide Com- mittee 3,4; Glee Club I ; Sophomore Weekend Dance Committee 2; Dormatory Committee 4; Sociology Club 4 ROY DAVID Football 1,2,3,4; Class Night 2; Arts Council 1,2.3,4; Drama Club 2; V restling 4; Hoagle Man 4 G. RAYMOND DE RIS HOWARD DESHONG J.V. Tennis 1,2,3; Varsity Tennis (manager) 3; Varsity Football 3; Dining Room Committee 4; Day Students ' Committee (co-chairman) 2,3; Psychology Club 2, (vice-president 3.4; Parking Committee 1,2,3 WILLIAM VILLEE DORWART, JR. Basketball 1,2,3,4; Track 1,2,3,4; Glee Club I PETER ARMES EDDY Varsity Soccer 4; J.V. Soccer 2,3; Class Night 3,4; Track 1,2,3,4; Glee Club I STEPHEN EHINGER Chess Team (captain) 1,2,3,4; Cross-country 2,3; Honor System Committee 4; Record (circulation manager) 2; Glee Club 1,2; Final Exam Committee 3,4 ROBERT HILGER EZERMAN WHRC (technical director) 2; J.V. Soccer 1,2,3; Serv- ice Fund Committee 4; Class Night Committee 4; Sail- ing 3; Basketball (manager) 4 Page 155 ' HOPING WE C AX MAINT.4I1V THE TRA- DITION SET BY THE CLASS OF ' 63 -CLASS OF !  ( « Casper Bongiovanni Son, Inc. Quality Plastering and Stucco Since 1906 VENTURI, INC. FRESH and FROZEN FRUITS and VEGETABLES 205 Cricket Avenue Ardmore, Pa. Kl 5-2017 Philadelphia, Pa. Ml 2-0547 RANSON FASOLDT News 1.2,3; Glee Club I: J.V. Soccer 1,2; Wrestling 1,2,3, (co-captain) 4; Drama Club STEVEN FLANDERS Orchestra 1,2,3,4; Chamber Music (BMC) I; Interna- tional Relations Club 4 BRUCE SOMERNDIKE FOERSTER Basketball 1,2,3,4; Baseball 1,2; Social Committee 2,3.4; Customs Committee 3; Customs Evaluation Committee 3 JOSEPH E. FRANKLIN, JR. Wrestling I, (manager) 4; Social Committee 1,2,3,4; WHRC 3,4; Sailing 1,2,3 JAMES F. SEDDES, JR. LOREN GHIGLIONE Note to the editor of The Record: credits are so much hogwash . . . they remind me too much of alumni notes. An Invitation to the Class of ' 63 A A [ A A A A A WHETHER YOU ' RE STARTING A JOB, studying abroad, setting up your own household or sinnply want convenient Full-Service banking facilities, Bryn Mawr Trust invites you to come to The Main Line ' s Own Bank. CHECKING ACCOUNTS, Travelers Cheques, Saving Accounts, A New Car Loan, Christmas and Vacation Clubs. LATER ON, you may need a home mortgage loan, a commercial loan to set up business, an installment loan for household •fiirr,lchlnn : We can help you then, too. BRYN MAWR TRUST THE MAIN LINE ' S OWN BANK HAVERFORD BRYN MAWR WAYNE Stiopping Center Lancaster Ave. LAviirence 5-1700 38 West Ave. MEMBER FEDERAL DEPOSIT INSURANCE CORPORATION Page 156 IAN R. GILBERT B. SCOTT GILLAM Record 3 (editor-in-chief) 4; Drama Club I; Glee Club 1,3: News 2; Madrigal Singers 2,3,4; Founders Club 4 JEFFREY WOOD GRAMBS News 3,4: Glee Club 1,2.3; Cross Country 1.2 DAVID HALL WHRC 2.3,4: Tracic 2,3: News 2: Glee Club 1,2 WAYNE HAMMAKER Glee Club 1,2,3,4: Octet 3,4; Customs Committee 2: Class Night Committee 3,4; Brass Choir 3,4; Orchestra 4 EDWIN M. HARTMAN Tracli 1,2,3,4: Cross-country 1,2,3, (captain) 4; News I, 2, (sports editor) 3; Glee Club 1,2; Philosophy Club 3, 4; Founders Club 3, (secretary) 4; Meeting Committee Chairman 4 ROGER W. HERZEL Class Night 2, (librettist-director) 3,4: Tri-College Show (librettist) 2: Arts Night 4; Bryn Mawr 1,2,3,4; Mono- nucleosis 2; Honor System Committee 2; News 1,2, (fea- ture editor) 3 JOHN FREDERICK HEUSS Wrestling Manager 2,3: Cross Country Manager 1,2: Baseball Manager 3: WHRC 1,2,3; Customs Committee 2: Record (business manager) 4 KIRK L. HILLIARD, JR. News 3,4: Glee Club 1; Spanish Club 1,2; WHRC 3 ALFRED J. HILTEBEITEL SIDNEY HOLLANDER Civil Rights Committee (co-chairman) 2 GEORGE W. HOUSTON News (advertising manager) 2, (managing editor) 3, (business manager) 4; Student Faculty Relations Com- mittee 2,3; Used Book Store 2,3,4 JOHN D. HOUSTON, II Glee Club 1,2; Dining Hall Committee 3,4: Bridge Club 1,2,3,4; Cross Country (manager) 4; Squash 3,4; Chess Club I DAVID HUNT Record (associate editor) 4: News 2,3, (contributor) 4; J.V. Soccer 1,2,3: Golf 3.4; Bridge Club 2,3,4; Honors Collection Speaker 4; Curriculum Committee 2 JOHN P. JOHNSON News 1,2,3,4; Tennis (manager) 3: WHRC 3,4 yn the r I ' lain cJLinc t i .... FLOHR CHEVROLET, INC. 125 E. Lancaster Avenue Ardmore, Pa. WE ARE NEVER SATISFIED UNTIL YOU ARE Ml 9-0300 SR 3-5600 Page 157 STEPHEN C. JOHNSON Orchestra I ; Drama Club 2,3,4: Philadelphia Tutorial Proiect 4 GREGORY KANNERSTEIN Varsity Baseball 3,4; J.V. Basketball 1,2: Varsity Basket- ball 3.4: News 1,2, (sports editor) 3.4; News Bureau 2 3: Record (sports editor) 4 WILLIAM S. KELLEY Track 1,2,3,4; Chemistry Club 2,3,4 ROGER L. KOHN Dormitory Committee 3,4; Vv ' HRC (technical director) 3 PETER HAL LARY Drama Club 2, (president) 3,4; French Club (president) 1,2 GEOFF LAWN Glee Club 1,2,3: TrI-College Co-ordinating Committee 3,4; German Club 1,2, (secretary) 3,4: Varsity Club 1.2, 3,4; Varsity Fencing Manager I ; Chemistry Club 3.4; Intramural Softball (umpire) 3: Young Friends 1,2 BERNARD LEDERBERG ANDREAS P. LEHNER Drama Club 1.2, (secretary) 3,4: Madrigal Singers 3,4; Class Night I; WHRC I DAVID LEONARD Young Friends Committee of North America (publicity director) 1,2, (conference co-ordinator) 3.4; Swimming Team (captain) 2,3.4; Young Friends I. (chairman) 2,3, 4: Meeting Committee 2. (chairman) 3: Founders Club 3,4; J.V. Soccer 1; WHRC (treasurer) I; International Club (treasurer) I WILLIAM G. LEVI Glee Club 1,2,3, (president) 4: WHRC 1,2,3; Orchestra 4; Octet 3, (director) 4 STUART L. LEVin Basketball 1,2,3,4; Track 1,2,3, (co-captain) 4: Varsity Club 2,3,4 JOHN MARGOLIS News I. (associate editor) 2, (managing editor) 3; Cus- toms Committee 2.3, (chairman) 4: Customs Evaluation Committee 1.2, (chairman) 3; Students Council 4; Founders Club 3.4 JOHN S. McCONAGHY, JR. Glee Club 1, (accompanist) 2.3: Chemistry Club 2,3, (secretary-treasurer) 4; Class Night 2.3,4: Golf 3 WILLIAM HARRISON MECHLING, III Fencing 1,2.3,4: Glee Club 1,2 ROBERT FREDERICK MILLER Tennis 1.3; Cross Country 2,3; Glee Club 2; Brass Choir 1 Madrigals PAUL R. MOYER Glee Club 1.2.3; Big Brother Committee 1.2.3.4: Final Exam Committee 3 K. THOMAS NOELL Customs Evaluation Committee 1 : Meeting Committee 2: Squash 3,4; WHRC 2 ROBERT W. NOLTE Class Night 2.3.4; Drama Club 3: Honor System Com- mittee 4; Art Series Committee 4 HANS PETER NORBERG WHRC 1.2.3. (business manager) 4; Rules Committee 1.2,3.4; Glee Club 1,2.3; Class Treasurer 4 Pago 158 ERNEST T. NORTHRUP Varsity Football 2.3,4: Track 2,3.4: WHRC 2.3.4 WILLIAM H. PHILLIPS FRANK H. POLLARD Track 1.2,3, (co-captain) ■. Cross Country 2,3,4: Bridge Club 1,2,3,4: Varsity Club 2.3,4: Glee Club 1.2 CHARLES WILLIAM POWERS News (sports editor) 2,3: Track 1,2.3.4: Honor System Connmittee 4: Philosophy Club 2,3,4: Record 3: Basket- ball 2.3: Dinning Roonn Committee (chairman) 4: Social Committee 3: Varsity Club 1,2,3.4: Glee Club I EDWARD SPENCER QUILL Varsity Tennis 1,2,3, (captain) 4: J.V. Soccer 1,2: Var- sity Soccer 3: Dining Room Committee 3: Dorm Com- mittee 3 ARNOLD H. QUINT Big Brother Sub-Freshman Guide Committee 2,3, (chair- man) 4: Economics Department (assistant) 3 WILLIAM G. RIGGAN Art Series (chairman) 4: Class Night 2, (co-best actor) 3,4: Varsity Baseball 2,3,4; J.V. Soccer 1.2 JOHN ROBERTS Glee Club I, (secretary) 2,3,4: German Club 2: Drama Club 1,2: Class Treasurer I TIMOTHY L. ROSE Student Council 1,2, (treasurer) 3. (president) 4: Var- sity Soccer 3, (co-captain) 4: Founders Club: Glee Club 1,2,3: WHRC 1,2: Parer.i ' s Day Committee 2.4 ROBERT L. RUBERS Haverford News 1.2,3, (sports editor) 4: J.V. Basket- ball 1,2: Varsity Basketball 3.4: Student-Faculty Rela- tions Committee 3. (chairman) 4: News Bureau 3,4 J. DOUGLAS RUFF Orchestra 1.2.3,4: German Club 2,3,4: Glee Club 1.2: Brass Choir 1.2,3,4 CONRAD HECKMANN PAINTING — DECORATING GENERAL CONTRACTING Stenton Avenue Mechanic Street Philadelphia 38, Pa. Livingston 8-2800 J. W. BICKERS, INC. TREE SURGERY Big Tree Moving Pruning • Feeding Cabling • Cavity Work LIGHTNING ROD PROTECTION LAwrence 5-8846 1039 Lancaster Avenue Bryn Mawr THE FRESHEST MILK IN YOUR AREA In the above photo we show the automatic capping machine (left) and the automatic filling machine at the Wawa plant In Delaware County. Note the gleaming stain- less steel and the sanitary conditions under which our dairy products are processed. In the best interest of our customers and in order to produce the finest dairy products available, we are up to date with the latest equipment and new ideas for better service, better quality, better customer satisfaction. Why not try us — your neighbor does. Wawa DAIRY FARMS t ?] GENERAL OFFICE Wawa, Delaware County, Penna. Phone: LOwell 6-6500 PHILADELPHIA OFFICE 1327 N. AAarston Street Phone: POplar 5-3710 Country Fresh Dairy Products delivered direct to your door-step Page 160 JOSEPH R. SCHULZE Varsitv Football 1,2,3. (captain) 4; Cricket 2.3.4: Drama Club 2,3: Class Night 1,3 THOMAS M. SCHWEITZER Arts Council 4: Psychology Club 2,3: German Club 1.2 STEPHEN J. SHAFER Orchestra I: J.V. Football I: J.V. Baseball I: Class Night 1,2: Class Dance (chairman) 2 BILL SHERMER Varsity Football 2,3: J.V. Football I: J.V. Wrestling 2; Varsity Wrestling I: Day Students Committee 2 ANDREW SIEGEL Varsity Baseball 2: Glee Club 1,2: J.V. Baseball I: J.V. Soccer 1,2: J.V. Basketball 1; Class Night 2 GEORGE P. SMITH Student Christian Movement 1.2,3.4: Glee Club 1,2,3; Cricket 1.2,3,4; Swimming 2,3.4: Customs Committee 4 KENT G. SMITH Students ' Council 1,2: Class President I: J.V. Baseball I; Varsity Baseball 2. ' 3, (captain) 4; J.V. Basketball 1,2; Varsity Basketball 3,4; Final Exam Committee (chair- man) 3,4: Honor System Committee 4; Service Fund 1,2; Customs Committee 3; Record (senior editor) 4; Glee Club I; Caucus Club 1,2; Varsity Club 3,4; Class Night I STEVE SMITH Student Peace Union 3,4: News 1,2,3 FRANK J. STANLEY. Ill Varsity Tennis 1,2,3, (co-captain) 4: Squash; Varsity Club 1.2. (secretary-treasurer) 3,4; Sociology Club (xenophobic activist) JOSEPH H. TAYLOR, JR. Soccer 3, (co-captain) 4; J.V. Basketball 1,2: Class Sec- retary 3: Class Vice President 4; Varsity Club 3,4; Bridge Club 2,3,4 CHARLES A. THRALL S.P.U. 2.3 4; Civil Rights 1,2,3; Meeting Committee 3, 4: Caucus Club 1.2 RICHARD W. UNGER WHRC 1,2,3,4: Football Manager 3,4: Glee Club I ROSS VAN DENBERGH Glee Cljb I MICHAEL WICHURA Orchestra 1,2 3,4; Curriculum Committee 4 LINDSLEY WILLIAMS Student Affairs Coordinator 4: Customs Committee 4; Student Affairs Co-ordinator 4: Customs Committee 4; Dormitory Committee 2,3, (chairman) 4; Dining Room Committee 2,3; WHRC I, (production manager) 3; Customs Evaluation Committee 2; Varsity Club 2,3.4; Soccer (trainer) 2,3.4: Cross-country (assistant man- At extra-curricular favorite ! ■k if • • •••••••••••A ANTHONY F. VINCENT French Club 1,2,3,4; German Club 2,3; Glee Club I ANTHONY J. WALTON Customs Committee 2.3,4; Customs Evaluation Commit- tee 1,2,3: Glee Club 1,2,3; Student Advisor 3,4; J.V. Baseball I: News 3 MICHAEL WEBER Glee Club 1.2: Drama Club I; Final Exam Committee 3 MIKE WERNER Students Council 4; Orchestra 1,3.4; Class Night 1,3,4; Chess Club I, (champion) 3,4; Corporation Scholarship 1,2 ROBERT A. WHITE Orchestra 1,2,4; Spanish Club 1,2,4; Glee Club 1,2; Class Night 2 ager) 2; Basketoall (trainer) 4: Track (manager) 1,2. (trainer) 3.4 The Seed 1.2,3,4; Class Night Committee 4 JOHN S. WOOD Glee Club 1,2.3; Schutz Singers 3; Madrigal Singers 4: Dining Room Committee 2; Customs Evaluation Com- mittee I FREDERICK ROBERT WORTH, III Spanish Club 1,2, vice president) 4; Glee Club 1,2: J.V. Fencing I: Class Night 2: Madrigal Singers 4 Pago 161 Hf . and 3Mrs, Robert B. A ird 3Mr. and Mrs, Frederick G, A.uer Mr. and 3Mrs. C- . Barber Br. and Mrs. B. E. BarlatM Mr. and Mrs. JPaul B. Beik Mr. and Mrs. Maurice J. Blumenthal Br. an€i Mrs. fValter B. Banitne Mr. and Mrs. Edtvartl M. Carsan Mr. awtd Mrs. Bager A. Crane Mr. and Mrs. day tan JV. Baneker Br. and Mrs. Borace F. Barlingtan Mr. and Mrs. and Mrs. Andretr Batt Mr. ami Mrs. JVitliatn V. Boru art Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Ettinger Mr. and Mrs. Ernest E. Gillawn Mr. and Mrs. Barley Gray Mr. and Mrs. Stanley Grasswnan Br. an€l Mrs. Wendell C. Ball Mr. and Mrs. John S. Beuss Br. and Mrs. Kirk L. Billiard Br. and Mrs. Jatnes J. BuEnt Br. and Mrs. Max B. Kasser Br. an€l Mrs. B. IV. Knudsan Mr. and Mrs. Louis B. Kahwu II Mr. and Mrs. Bal B. Lary Page 162 Mr. attd 3Mrs. Alvin JLipptt r€l Mr. ami Mrs. Jfthwt S. McConag hy 3Mr. tittil Mrs. 3iariin l € lsftn Mr. anti Mrs. Gt ar(f€ W. i i€ rcc Mr. und Mrs. Mil tan Quint 3 Mr. nnti 3irs. M rt ' tlcrick Mi. Miaach Mr. anti 3Mrs. Waiter Ej. Reiciuardt MBr. and 3€rs. JVarbert J. Haberts Mr. and 3€rs. JVartnan Mtuberg Mr. awt€i 3Mrs. Dautgias Ruff 3Mr. attd 3Mrs. Edtnunti Sarver 3Mr. and 3Mrs. Seymour Svitatfs 3Mr. and Mrs. •Faitn JV. Scitranit Mr. awtd Mrs. Manfred Seiuu eitser Mr. and 3irs. George D. Stnitiu Mr. and Mrs. Handaipig B. SwnitiB Dr. and 3Mrs. Hertn€Mn B. Snou Mr. and Mrs. Josepiu H. Tagiar Mr. and Mrs. •Fawnes JL. Tuiiaciw Mr. and Mrs. H. iV. Van Berg Mr. and 3irs. Haraid S. fVaiiier • •- 3Mr. and Mrs. I auis fVerner Mr. and 3Mrs. Stiiitnan J . JViiiiawns 3Mr. and Mrs. Fre€i fVartit Jr. Mr. an€i 3Mrs. Jaiun A.. ' Eapp Pago 163 L omtyiimenti of P. DI MARCO CO., INC. CONTRACTORS 2228 HAVERFORD ROAD ARDMORE, PA. Page 164 COMPLIMENTS OF THE CLASS OF 1965 f ' pM|| H !- ' « ' H J|ks s IHLJC-kA- ' . U 1964 OF CLASS THE OF COMPLIMENTS Page 165 Fleischmann Baking Co. Inc. Serving Quality Baked Goods To Philadelphia ' s Finest Restaurants, Hotels And Institutions Since 1876 2101 Arch Street Philadelphia 3, Pa. LO 3-4476 Page 166 MULFORD CONSTRUCTION CO. ARDMORE, PA. ALL TYPES OF BUILDING CONSTRUCTION i iM .■ ' tajix- - Page 167 CAPTIONS Mrs. Virginia Kline (Ass ' t. Registrar) — 10— Don Sonnenborn and Elien Silberb ' att — II — Whai is wrong with this picture? Dave Feisen — 12— Denny Rich — 13— Prof. Frank Quinn teaching a joint Haverford-Bryn Mawr class in the Library garden. hlugh Borton (President) — 16— I Barclay Bellas (Information), William Sheppard (Alumni), Charles Perry (Development) II Walter Baker (V.P., Development) — 18— William E. Cadbury (Dean) James Lyons (Dean of Students) —20— Aldo Casein (Comptroller), with unidentified student. —21 — Marilyn Curran, Miriam Nugent, Mary Glynn —23— Archibald Macintosh (Vice-President): —32-33— I: Douglas hHeath, Bradford Cook, George Heise, Edwin Bronner, William Ambler, William Reese, Walter Baker, Robert William- son, hlarry Pfund, Sydney Perloe, Irving Finger, Howard Comfort, John Davison, William Sheppard, Robert Walter, Cletus Oakley, Wallace Brewster, William Davldon, hioward Teaf, Ernest Pru- dente, Philip Bell, Paul Hare, John Chesick, Vernon Ingraham, Brooks II: William Docherty, Archibald Macintosh, Aryeh Kosman, Alfred Diamant, John Spielman, Fay Selove (behind Margaret Mathies), Thomas Benham, Ralph Sargent, Theodroe Hetzel, Forrest Comfort, Alfred Satterthwalte, Robert Butman, 111: Ottomar Rudolph, James Lyons, Gerhard Spiegler, Manule Asensio, Clayton Holmes, Frank Quinn, Hugh Borton, George Kennedy, Wesley Thompson, Elizabeth Zen, Marcel Gutwirth, English Showalter. Prof. Wallace T. MacCaffrey (History) Prof. Howard Teaf (Economics), Ray Andrews, at Faculty-Student Soccer Game Prof. Edgar Rose (English) Prof. Alfred Diamant (Political Science) —36— Prof. Alfred Satterthwaite (English) Prof. Edwin B. Bronner (History, Curator Quaker Collection): Portrait: Rufus Jones Prof. George Kennedy (Classics) —37— Pro . Marcel Gutwirth (Romance Languages) Professor Fay Selove (Physics), Professor Paul Desjardins (Philso- phy) —38— Mrs. Tracy Kosman, Isaac Kosman, Joshua Kosman, Prof. Aryeh Kosman Prof. Bradford Cook (Romance Languages), at Faculty-Student Soccer Game —39— Prof. Douglas Heath (Psychology) Prof. Paul Hare (Psychology), Professor Douglas Heath (Psychology), Professor Margaret Mathies (Biology) Prof. Eugene Smolensky (Economics) Prof. Robert Walter (Chemistry) Prof. English Showalter (French) Prof. John Spanier [Political Science) Mrs. Madelyn Gutwirth (Romance Languages) Prof. John Ashmead (English) —95— B. Dov Lederberg (treading on thin ice?) Joe Schuize (standing on tabula firma?) —98— David Leonard, John D. Margolis, Edwin Hartman, Loren Ghigllone —99— Dr. William Reese — 100— — 101 — I Inui, Morris, Ward, Scoll, Bazelon, Roberts, Brookes, Smith, Toan, Pancoast, Falls, Beik, Bates, Wood, Macmillan II Major, Whittlng- ton. Woodward, Crooks, Coblentz, Cobet, Sargent, Mack, Slffer- lan, Polster, Salazar, Peterson, Macan, Bundy, Liem, Belanger, Lepplk, Olton III Levi, Zapp, Jacobs, Friedman, Nichols, Johnston, Dr. Reese, Rosso, Watson, Gruen, Ruppenthal, Glass Dean, Wil- liams, Hammaker, Dott Page 168 — 102— —117— Don Reinfeld Larry Auer, John Darnell, Kerry Berland, Rod Fritchley, George Smith, Russ Stetler, Dave Leonard, Bob Perisho, Al SlHerlen, Dave — 103— Elliott, John Watson. Bob Woodward. Jon Wheeler Ginger McShane T. Belanger. N. Pearlstine — 118— I Jerry Schwertfeger, Carolyn Wade. Tern Horowitz. John H oover. — 104 — Sandy BlacUy II Carol Schrier, Pam Goold, Roian Fleck, Munson Pete Scherer, Larry Mick, Tim Sterrett, Neil MacMillan, Griff Hicks, Jane Robbins, Peter Lary. Terry Van Brunt. Andy Lehner Smith, Dave Olton. Barry Seagren. Robert Graves. Paul Becker. I John Hoover. Sandy Blachley. Howard Bush. Peter Larry II T. Belanger, J. Heuss. J. Major, S. Gillam. R. de RIs P. Barber. Andy Lohner • ® ' ' ° —119.120— Kerry Berland. Bill Schafer Taylor Grant — 105 — Lloyd Lee. Robert Munger. David Lerner. Peter Moskovitz, Peter Terry Belanger and Norm Pearlstine Lary. John Hoover, Munson Hicks, John Pierce — 106— —121 — George Houston David Hunt, Loren Ghiqiione, Griff Smith, Rev. William Coffin (Yale Chaplain. Freedom Rider) speaking In Jerry Schwertfeger. John Cooper. Tony Rosner collection. — 107— —122— Taylor Grant speaking in collection . Bill Levi, Murray Levin, Allan Williamson. Joe — 108 — Schulz. Bob Nolte. John Zapp, Gary Mitchell. Ed Hartman. DIcIc Wertlme. Alan Williamson. Put Barber. Paul Hopper. Dov . Jay Schamberg. Jeff Lawn, John Aird, Russ Stet- Lederberg ter. Lew Birmingham, Bob Toan, Bob Glllingham. Bob Gallway. Pete Moskowltz, Clay Stites. Dan Forkin — 109— Dick Unger —123— I Kohn. Kelley. Kannersteln. J. Johnson, J. Houston, G. Houston. ' ' 0 Hollander. Hilliard. Spiegel. Stavis. Stone. Thrall. Van Denbergh. I Doug Spaeth, Spencer Quill. Danny Hogenauer. Dave Busey II Vincent. Walton. Weber, Werner II Gillam. Gilbert, Ghiglione, John Cole, Roy David, Chuck Conn, Pete Eddy, Dan Smiley, Joe Geddes, Franklin, Foerster, Fasoldt. Flanders. Ezerman. Riggan. Taylor, Al Crane. Tillman Saylor, Jerry Darlington, Kent Smith. Rose, Ruberg, Ruff. Schulze. Schweitzer. Schwentker. Shafer. Sher- Geoffrey Lawn. Rick Carson III Lindsay Williams, Fred Well mer III David. Darlington. Daneker. Crawford. Conn. McConaghy, Mechllng. Miller. Moyer Nolte. Norberg. Northrup IV Belk. Bar- low, Andrews, Lary. Lawn. Lederberg. Levi. Levitt. Llpez. Raach. -I I i — Reed Carson. Steve Ettinger, Steve Johnson, Ernst Hartner Mike Punzak, Bob Toan —128— (clockwise) Jack Williams. Art Wood. Rob Manoff. Roy Gutman, Harrison Spencer, Monroe Sonnenborn, Tim Rose. Rick Bazelon. John Cole, Al Crane. Spencer Quill Mike Werner, Joe Taylor. John Margolls, Don Sonnenborn. Mike Werner Dave Hunt — 132— Chevy Chase, Munson Hicks. Bryan Kurtz. Harold Walker — 133— Tom Brown, Harrison Spencer. Howard Pancoast, John Rosso. Tony Vincent. John Kabat -US- Robert Hlllman, W. Geoffrey Lawn. James MacRae David Yaffe. Mike Stept. Bob Gallway, Bob Baskerville. Chuck Lawrence. Dick Fred Well. Justus Cobet. Ronald Schwarz. William Lyon. Doyle Morris Davis — 134— Chris Jacobs, Rob Rlordan. George Sargent, ? ' ' Robert White. Micomona Espantosa. Fred Worth, Jorge Salazar, Michael Ralney. William Dean, Robert Schack, Jonathan Chace, — ' 35 — Eugene Sarver, Trasnochita Cachandeo. Chris Filstrup Will Riggan and miscellaneous monks. Page 169 The right note for refreshment eOTTlED UNDER AUTHORITY Of THE COCA-COIA COMPANY 8Y THE PHILADELPHIA COCA-COLA BOTTLING CO. Page 170 HAVERTOWN PRINTING COMPANY 2134 DARBY RD., HAVERTOWN, PA. HI lltop 6-4500 JAckson 8-5616 One of the VINCENT B. FULLER AFFILIATED COMPANIES CREATIVE LITHO PRODUCTS 125 North 8lh Street, Phila. 6, Pa. RADNOR GRAPHIC ART, Inc. 320 King of Prussia Road, Radnor, Pa. LEHIGH LITHOGRAPHING, Inc. 2285 Avonu A , Bethlehem, Pa. VINCENT B. FULLER TYPESETTING 125 North 8th Street, Phila. 6, Pa RADNOR LITHOGRAPHING, Inc 320 King of Prussia Road, Radnor, Pa. TIMEMASTER FORMS, Eastern 2134 Darby Road, Havertown, Pa. TECHNOGRAPHIC SERVICES, Inc. 125 North 8th Street, Phila. 6, Pa New York City Office: Fourth Floor, 554 Fifth Avenue Member printing Industries of Philadelphia ARTHUR LORENZ SON Roofing and Sheet Metal UPPER DARBY, PA Flanders 2-6688 VOMPLIMEJMTS OF THE CLASS OF 1963 finis finis finis How often hove you heard if? Heard f-he muffer, growl or the shout, this place doesn ' t know what it ' s do- ing ? All too often? Yet, looking back the very vagueness and inconsistancy that has prompted such complaints seems the peculiar power of Haverford. It is characteristic that no attempt to write down goals in order to live up to them has succeeded. And it ' s because Haverford has many goals, and many tasks. The kid who ' s decided to be a doctor must be shown the value of philosophy. The poet with the beard must be convinced of the power of knowledge. Each Hav- erford student is a unique problem — and beyond the goal of meeting each problem as it appears, Haverford ' s goals must be inconsistant and varied. This multiplicity of goals has its disadvantages — faculty power struggles, administrative empire building, student confusion. In the midst of it all, though, each of us has been forced to choose a path — a path that leads to our own silent peak in Darien. Haverford has its own forms of narrow-minded- ness of course, and its prejudices. But it has few sacred cows. The mooing of sacred cows is heard too often in this world, and we should be grateful for our four-year respite from that mournful sound. Haverford has taught us to rec- ognize it. All the skill and knowledge in the world has nev- er been able to silence it completely. (If there weren ' t a cou- ple of sacred cows around, what of class night? what of the NEWS? how would we hove learned to recognize the sound of plaintive mooing?) Well-intentioned talks about the dangers of ivory towers are all too frequent at graduation time. But Haver- ford is an ivory tower. And as long as the foundation is sound, builder build on. The higher our tower reaches and the whiter it gleams, the more we should rejoice at having been there once. All too soon this tower we have lived in for four years will gleam a distant and impossible city on the horizon of our memory. Much of what we have done here has been playing with the symbols of being grown up — elections and com- mittees and growing beards; footnotes and peace marches and subscriptions to PLAYBOY. But when one looks at the real toys of the adult world — the bombs and the bills and the paychecks and the children — one feels perhaps a little practice with blanks is in order. It a thing that gets said seldom — probably be- cause it ' s the simplest thing to say and sounds it. But the men who strive in perplexity to keep the walls of the tower true and the foundations sound deserve to hear it said once, straight out. Therefore, at the final curtain, let it be said once, straight out: Haverford is a good college and a fine place in which to be and have been. finis finis finis finis STAFF: SCOTT GILLAM Editor-in-Chief PUT BARBER Managing Editor Art Director TERRY BELANGER DAVID HUNT JOHN MAJOR Associate Editors JOHN HEUSS Business Manager WILLIAM D. Y. RICH GRIFFITH SMITH HAROLD WALKER Photographers MICHAEL NELSON Advertising Manager RAYMOND DE RIS Patronage Manager STEVE ETTINGER Subscriptions GREG KANNERSTEIN BOB RUBERG Sports Editors HERB BLUMBERG DAVE DANEKER KENT SMITH Senior Editors J. B. SUNDERMAN Editor-in-Chief, 1964 Record WRITERS: Barber C ' Mundus minor . . . , Administration, finis); Bclangcr et fils (Activities) ; Gillam (Preface, Dedication 366 West Lancaster Avenue) ; Hartman (Meeting) ; Hunt (Faculty, Parents ' Day); Kannerstein Ruberg (Sports); Lederberg C ' Class History ); S. Smith (Collection) ; Weber (Class Night) . Pago 174 ■■ ' i V Page 176