Lakehead University - Yearbook (Thunder Bay, Ontario Canada)

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L AKEHE AD TECHNICAL INSTITUTE YEAR BOOK FIELD TRIP— ARTS prize thrust upon ' em. After determining by statistics the slim chance each of us had of being thrust upon, we decided it would be best to carry on with our original intentions. At the corner of Cumberland and Arthur Streets, we found a crowd of puzzled people staring up at the sky where nothing appeared to be happening. Wishing to look into this strange spectacle we drew nearer where, much to our amusement, we discovered a certain small town forester, filled with awe, regarding the numerous stories of the Prince Arthur Hotel. We left him mut- tering to himself in the best of Parisian French and made our way up the mighty slopes of Arthur Street. The way was hard particularly for the Fort William students who are unused to the thinner atmosphere and treacherous tenain of this mountainous district. The Port Arthur students found that in order to make any progress they had to tie ropes around the Fort William students and haul them up the hill. It was five minutes to three when we arrived at the library where we found Mr. Todesco gazing fondly into the headlights of a yellow convertible. When asked if a blonde had gotten out of it, he looked puzzled and answered, A blonde what? We let the matter drop and after finding the car was locked, we went inside for our lecture on bibliographies. Since then, Miss Murphy, Miss Booking, and Miss Aedy, have been doing something which has been neglected by most libraries. Bibliographies of bibliographies have been written but since no one has written a bibliography of a bibliography of a bibliography the girls are working on it. Mr. Adderley is out compaigning for the addition of a comic book section to all Public Libraries and Miss Nattress is wondering if a librarian would classify her Year Book under the Fine Arts or Twentieth Century Literature. When last seen, Mr. Todesco was heading in the direction of a yellow convertible. — L. A. Word got around that the Engineers were taking an English course while at L.T.I., and although it is hard to prove while in the school, we picked up this copy of a typical engineer ' s business letter to a financeer and the reply. Dear Dad: No mon No fun. ■ — Your Son. Dear Son: Too bad You sad. — Your Dad. — 26 —

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LAKEHEAD TECHNICAL INSTITUTE YEAR BOOK Field Trip . . . Arts NKNOWN to the other faculties of this noble institution, Arts students are required to go out on field trips, to make the long arduous journey into the vast unknown in search of knowledge. Every second Thursday, the Port Arthur Public Library beckons to us to solve the mysteries of Library Science or as one Arts student so aptly put it — What good is that stuff anyhow? At the hour of 2:30 p.m., ye old intellectuals are to be found assembled before the doors of this awe-inspiring edifice fully prepared for the venture. The equipment varies according to the need and intellectual capacity of each student. Each boy carries a zippered binder containing the following: A pen containing no ink, a copy of Foo, a broken pencil, a deck of cards, some frog ' s arteries which were left over from Zoology, a bat- tered copy of Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme (that ' s French for Applied Science), half an eraser, a picture of the person the boys of this school admire more than any other: Pago, and several pages of notes taken during a lecture to prove to University Forestry that Arts students can at least stay awake. The girls ' equipment differs somewhat. In their binders one will find a pen without its top, a straight pen without a nib, an English-German Dictionary, four pencils, H.B., 2H, 3H, and 6H (you never know when you might just happen to be walking through the drafting room and be asked for a pencil), a tube of lipstick, some Kleenex, a copy of Modern Screen, a compact which from time to time opens on its own accord covering everything with a film of powder, a copy of True Love, and a page of notes taken on the character of Mr. Darcy in Pride and Prejudice because Laurence Olivier was so won- derful in the movie. It was in this manner the members of the Arts Faculty were gathered suitably equipped for Library Science several weeks ago. We left the school early, that is, not quite as late as we left the time before, and moved off slowly down Cumberland Street glancing now and again at our maps and compasses to keep from straying off the trail. All went smoothly until we reached the vicinity of the Lyceum Theatre. Here we faced our first challenge. The time had come for us to make the big decision of our lives. Should we continue on our way to the Library or should we answer the call of culture and go to see a double feature which happened to be ' The Dakota ' Kid and for added enjoyment The Body Snatchers. Not only was this double bill of the highest calibre but it was Foto-Nite. As Shakespeare once said, Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon ' em. Who wouldn ' t want that Foto-Nite

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LAKEHEAD TECHNICAL INSTITUTE YEAR BOOK I Well Remember . . well remember my first day underground in a Canadian gold mine. With no conception of what it would be like, my mind speculated with some very strange ideas. And on the morning in question my uncertainty increased when I dressed in un- familiar clothing and acquired a cap lamp operated from a battery attached to my belt. The descent was made in a cage barely big enough for the seven men who occupied it. It went down so fast that I found myself in the station at the 900 ft. level before I knew what had happened. This station was large and well lighted. The rock walls had been painted a cheerful white and several benches stood along one wall. However, the black opening of the drift at the other end of the station quickly caught and held my attention. Then the shifter appeared and led me into that darkness. I stumbled along after him over the uneven footing of the ties of the narrow gauge railway which ran the length of the drift. By tipping my head forward I was able to get enough light on the track ahead, but I was con- cerned about bumping my head. So my progress was slow as I kept flashing my light alternately up and down, and as a result the shifter kept getting farther ahead of me. Then it occurred to me that the drifts had been cut to accommodate anybody walking in an upright position. I soon caught up to my shifter. We turned off to go along one of the many crosscuts. About a half mile along the cross cut my guide suddenly vanished; he had stepped into a small opening in the side of the wall. From this point a system of ladders led downward. I started down slowly, feeling for each rung, and at first attempting to illuminate the lower rungs, but nearly falling from the ladder in the process. Shaky and breathless I reached the bottom. I was in a stope, which seemed like a huge cavern terminating in the shape of a funnel below me. The shifter indicated a great heap of broken rock on the sides of the stope, gave me a shovel and instructions to shovel it into the funnel at the bottom. He told me that the broken rock would be drawn out into cars on the level below. This was not clear to me, but I set to work anyways . . . and rather gingerly because I was afraid I might lose my footing and go bouncing down the stope. That shift was certainly the longest eight hours I have yet lived. The recollection of my first day underground seems rather amusing to me now, but I think I shall never forget it. -J. D. — 27 —