Macalester College - Quid Nunc Yearbook (St Paul, MN)

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oifice boxes, no splintered floor. The Millennium had come for Macalester l Time lays his hand upon all, and yet who would have dreamed that, within twenty-five years, those bright, eager boys and girls who composed the class of 1905 could have been transformed into that group of grave, earnest men and women who 1net in the .President's room to celebrate the twenty-fifth anniversary of their graduation day. The toils and sorrows of life had marked us all, some almost past recognition. Our banquet was a unique atfair. Around the board gathered the graduation class of twenty-live years ago, with its circle unbroken. YVe had come from many lands. Most of us had been strangers to each other for a quarter of a century, and with life almost lived be- tween our meetings, we gathered once more, a band of students on Graduation Day. The plan of our banquet was' also unique. Each member of the class was to tell the story of twenty-five years in a. fifteen minute after-dinner speech. Our class had numbered thirteen, but there were almost twice as many gathered around the groaning tables. All of the gentlemen, ex- cept Hr. Flinn, had felt that it was not good for man to be alone, and President Flinn had married his country. The guests were arranged in alphabetical order, so the ltev. John Anderson, D. D., one of the most famous evangelists of the century, be- gan the Symposium. The very first sentence seemed to transport us to the music studio of other days. 1 remember t.hat one day many years ago, one of our lady professors told Dr. Anderson, then plain John Anderson, that with his magnificent voice he might move multi- tudes, and I am sure that we all, who often heard that voice from the platform of the music room, leading us with such vigor in songs of praise, or stirring us with exhortation, felt the justice of her remark. The same powerful voice bore us away on the wings of fancy, for a trip around the world. Dr. Anderson felt as though he had the whole world with him that night, Cwith a smile to the lady at his rightl, and yet he would tear himself away from the pleasant surroundings to accompany us on a fifteen-minute journey through America and Eng- land, coming back by way of the north pole and Canada. Ile told us of a busy life, spent in traveling from city to city in the lands where the English tongue was spoken, imparting to thousands of eager lis- teners the word of truth. Dr. Anderson spoke with touching gentle- ness of the wife at his side, who through all these years had been such a noble helper in his labors. And although Mrs Anderson was. a. stranger to many of us, there came to our minds a faint recollec- tion of days when John Anderson 's room was empty for many a long evening. The present writer was honored with the next place on the pro- gram. and told brietly how he had risen from the humble position of college scribe for the Pioneer Press. to the seat which he now so un- worthily fills. He remembered days when his writing created a sen- sation at Macalester. and brought to him letters bordered in black and 20

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CLASS PRO PH ECY The Century Magazine of July, 1930, contains the following inter- esting reminiscence from the facile pen of Mr. E. K. Bitzing, the dis- tinguished editor of the New York Sun. It has been my delightful privilege this year, to attend the coni- mencement exercises at Macalester College, St. Paul, Minn. It is twenty-tive years since, as a young graduate, I had myself taken part, on a similar occasion, in this, n1y Alma Mater. That fact, indeed, ac- counted for my presence. During the year, letters had been passing between the members of the Class of 1905, scattered all over the world, and the result was that we all met once more, on the Sth of June, in the Dear Old Halls. But no, they were not the same Halls. In place of the little red brick building that had seemed so important to us, stood that massive pile of eternal stone, which constitutes the home of one of the most famous colleges of America. Truly the years had changed the college, as they had changed us! And yet the place was not less dear to us. for in memory we cherished the college of other days, and built up within this mountain of granite, our own little shrine before which we worshiped. I believe that no one has ever adequately portrayed the feelings which pour into the heart of a man, when, after an absence of a quarter of a. century, he stands in the corridors of his old college home. All feelings mingle: Joy, sorrow: pleasure, pain: pride, humility: remem- brance, regret. Those dear old days! Those days that are no more!', The feelings are sufhciently complex when the place itself has remained unchanged: but the strangeness of surroundings adds thoughts more various still. VVe are torn between the present and the past: between pride of achievement, and regret for vanished joys. As we gazed that day, at the granite walls. the massive pillars, and the beautiful domes, they seemed to melt away, and in their place a shadow-picture came, a reflection of that unpretentious, homely build- ing. which, through so many years. had been hidden among the pictures in the galleries of iremory. As we were guided through the beautiful palace of learning, by our dear old friend ex-President VVallace, now a venerable old man of nearly four score, whose name is enshrined in the hearts of thousands of his countrymen, there seemed to appear before us the battered stairs: the door with the broken glass: the postoffice boxes jammed with papers: and the busy stream of students passing eagerly to their class-rooms. VVe instinctively raised our feet for fear of tearing up pieces of the old floor. But all was changed: there was no battered stairway: no broken door: no disorderly post- 19

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