Kean University - Memorabilia Yearbook (Newark, NJ)

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THE CLASS CF 1943 j' nuff' MRS. HARRIET E. WHITEMAN Aa'1'isrr Wifl1 college Jays ll't'iVt' f7dVffll.Q Afmtlrer life u'i re Xftlfffllg . . . . . College Days . . . they began when we were freshmen in thirty-nine. XY'hat a different world it was then . . . sunshine and pink lemonade in the shade on our Convocation Day. The distant sky was darkening, we knew, but here were smiling people to meet, friendships to make, and the challenge of college life. Timid at first, we hesitated, but not for long-because soon we were infiltrated with the college spirit of comradeship. We overwhelmed rhe upperclassmen by shining their shoes as well as their cars, pushing them out of the Tudor Room, and beating them in the horseshoe and ping pong tournaments. WK' blasted unreadable Barnes as an agita- tor of international affairs, dragged our science classes from the laboratory into the shade of the garden, where we debated the social lag and problems of science and religion, impressed our faculty with our sociability at our 2 by 2 dance, and generally convinced them that we were the finest class they ever had. , There was little reflection in our daily life of the drama occurring overseas, although 1 1 we did fortify our hopes for peace by assisting in the Norms production, Bury tht Dead. i l l l li

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Sg1fLl07' MSS 'Sw BERNHARD SCHNEIDER Prrsnlull Threatening thunderheads blackened the skyline while we registered as sophomores. Confused by the portent of events and the doubtful necessity of the first Draft we plunged into our studies, resolving to make the most of the present. We did take time out to greet our new ugreenl' brothers and sisters and to visit the Worldls Fair fnor could we help philosophizing on what the World of Tomorrow would bel. Although knitting bags were the fashion, the knitting was more personal than the later Bundles for Britainl' items. At our Spring Informal, men in uniform were still a novelty. When the storm, which had been forecast for so long, finally broke overhead . . . we were juniors. In the days that followed we found it difhcult to apply ourselves in classes. The feeling that prevailed among the students was best evidenced by those who attended our Junior Prom that March. For one evening, at least, the main desire was to turn back the clock of Time and have one gala occasion while we were still together. QSome of the men had already been drafted or had enlistedj. We'll never forget the sight of the tuxedoes and the gowns swirling to the sweet music of Budd Laird's orchestra, the D'Angolas leading the Grand March, and the feeling that we had been successful in making that night ours. We are thankful now that our faculty was sensitive to our insecurity and guided our energies into preparation for practicum. Meanwhile our men, who pro and conned the V-S and V-7 reserve plans, attended eight o'clock math or gym classes. We formed first aid study groups, collected books for the college Victory Campaign, and bought Will' stamps. Finally it was time for that much anticipated event, our first practicum, when we were to try our skill at teaching. W'e parted, not to be reunited until we were Seniors. Somehow being a Senior lacked the sparkle we had anticipated since we were fresh- men. Perhaps it was because we were increasingly aware of the vacancies in our ranks. So many of the fellows were in the armed forces, others had taken jobs in war plants or in schools, several had joined the accelerated program. We just couldn't get into the swing of things. We did get together to send gifts to the college men in service, but our personal interests were foremost in our minds, as illustrated by the numerous engage-