Loyola University Maryland - Evergreen / Green and Gray Yearbook (Baltimore, MD)

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(ClaaB nf 131 T Al) is lliis (lay of !)aiiiiig a lime wlien lears are l)ul a I ' aint expression ol our sorrow, wlien silenee rallier than words l)es])eaks the emotion that surges within our souls. Only a Icwv more days and the last I ' arew’ell, a lew more days and we shall stand on the threshold of a I ' uture, unknowm, unex])lored, untraversed, menacing wdth uncertainly all the more ter- rible in the hour of a monstrous war. nistraught by tliese contlicling emotions, we look hack yearningly uj)on our Alma Mater, only to find her gradually drilling from us. But we shall not falter, for the sjiirit of the ideals wdiieh she has fostered and nourished in us will he the strength to hear our burden and bring us safely through this unlracked wilderness to a glorious destination. fo the High School lad these wairds are hut an aifeclation, llic kind of formality becoming the dignity of a Senior al this time of gradua- tion. To the college man they bear a true note of sorrow ' , yet even for him the novelty of adventure and the sw’eetness of romance jial- liate this thing of grief. To the Senior alone they have their full sig- nificance — to him they are no longer the emjity dreams of boyish fancy, hut the rude and uncarved reality. Loyola is to us now ' but a bandful of hallowed recollections, memo- ries w ' hose vividness is not bedimmed in tbc confusion of hazy ])ros- peclive, visions of a youth filled w ' ith joys, ho])cs, ambitions, eagerly looking forw ' ard to tbe coming of this great day. Should everything else jiass out of our lives, should misfortune be our lot, these sainted recollections of a lia])j)y jiast w ' ould alone be sulticient to s])ur us on to noble deeds and jirodigious accomiilisbmenls worthy of a son of Loyola. Our Alma Mater bas ever been the liome of cberished and untarnished traditions. Many of her sons liave climbed tbe rocky slo])c of un])re- cedenled success. We hojic to follow in Ibeir footstejis. But should w ' e fail to reach that |)innacle of glory, should our deeds not add to the sjilendor of her already shining firmament, we feel we have given her our best. And though the Senior Class of 1917 may ])ass out unnoticed 18

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RAYMOND J. KWASNIK, A. B., Arithmetic. 17

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i)Y the coming generations, yet the spirit she handed down will ever remain within these hallowed walls and he a stimulus toward achieve- ment whose blazoned glory will burst lorth like the shot at Concord, “lieard ’round the world.” As our days at Loyola gradually draw to a close, the gates to the inner recesses of our memories swing open and, like trium])hant soldiers marcliing homeward, the animated visions of those joyful high school years come troojiing by. After the first yeai’s there are many pleasant recollections, but so few common to us all, because of the division of our class, that we make no mention of them. But who of the iircsent Senior does not remember the gleeful days of third year, where the diligent Mr. Forteseue drilled us in the foundations of the classics. The detested “Jug,” with its inniimerable excuses, tloods gaily back uiion us. Cer- tainly that member should be ostracized who would forget the hajipy period with the incompara]3le Mr. Forteseue. The beginning of September, 1912, brought us to the Senior High School, where the enthusiastic and energetic Father Sullivan awaited us. Often referred to as “hard worker,” Father Sullivan “made good” tins name by literally j)ouring ui)on us themes in Greek and Latin. The conclusion of this year found us thirty-two in numl)er receiving the blue ribbon diplomas amidst the ap])lause of our friends. Surely Fourth High holds for us no unha])py memories. Anotlicr ])leasant summer rolled around and school commenced with us in Freshman. We were only fourteen in number, each with an exalted idea of his importance. Fortunately for us the fates were kind in placing over our destiny the staid, sober-minded and zealous Father Parker. To his credit be it said that he succeeded in instilling in us our first real appreciation of English i)oetry, evidently a lasting and splendid monument by which to be remembered. To Father McLnughlin, our Mathematics and Chemistry instructor, we all bear profound respect and sincere attacbment. His indefatiga- ble labor in our bebalf did much toward our intellectual devclo]3ment and the intermittent humorous thrusts from his good nature instituted the spice of a class, whose sid)jcct matter was naturally dry and un- attractive. The gruelling third degree of Father McLoughlin’s “quiz” will never be forgotten. 19