NYU Washington Square College - Album Yearbook (New York, NY)

Page 16 text:

9' 1 4 4 affix 4 Ham II 12

Page 15 text:

The Skeptic Year Oh, there is nothing left to believe, The world has nothing up its sleeve, There are no Gordian knots to cleave In 1934. Our young musicians swear that Bach Is worse than Brahms, and freely sock Beethoven's stuff around the clock In 1 9 3 4. While contract hridge is now passe And sin itself is too hlase, Sea serpents in the headlines play In 1934. The rnost eccentric forrn of coup D'etat is hut another group Of letters in the noodle soup Of 1934 And Skeptics hold that, soon or late, Their Skepticisrn is the fate Of those who sadly graduate In 1934 -LEON VANDERLYN, CLASS OF 1940 11111 5? R 44214-4 ogy' VMI, 1 A 4' in -'E ,. v-L ' J, -niz:r:.- A'0r:ccx1-'Fx

Page 17 text:

reenwich Village by RBUBEN RAB1Nov1Tc1-I Forty years back when much had place Tbat since has perished out of mind . . . I - THOMAS HAILDY. 1. F TWO score years may obliterate out of man's mind that which has been, what, then, remains after the passing of three centuries? To understand, to feel the myriad of events which took place in that tiny portion of the globe's surface now called Greenwich Village, man's memory must travel far, far back to the year 1600- back to the days of blunderbusses and buckskin suits, of sea-faring adventurers and native Americans. , Let all of our skyscraping sentinels of steel and stone become animated in the middle of a very, very dark night. Let these tall, powerful giants stoop down, pick up all of our concrete creations under their arms, let them arise again and march off, Brobdignagian-like, into the Catskill Mountains. Let them join the companions of Rip Van Winkle in a game of nine-pins, while they are gone, let us survey what remains after they have stepped off the soil of Manhattan Island. Let us find Greenwich Village as it was some three hundred years ago. The tribe of Indians of the Village of Sappokanikan had lived through many winters and many summers ere Henry Hudson sailed up the river Hudson in his vessel, the Half-moon. Their leader was Keeya-Meeka, the greatest of all warriors in time of battle, the gentlest of rulers in time of peace. Keeya-Meelufs glory had lived for many moons, when a great adventure befell the Red . Man of Sappokanikan. It happened in the season of short days and long nights, this great adventure of Keeya- Meeka and the Moose-that-talked. Snow had fallen for many days-the cone-topped pines seemed to bow under their white mantles-the hillsides showed ghostly gray faces to the cold moon-the frosty, gleaming stars were indeed the eyes of the many Gods of the Red Man. Deep and powerful, the Voice was heard call- ing through the night, D010-Utclo . . . Dol:-Utah . . . D019-Utclo. None but Keeya-Meeka dared to step forth from the great tepee of the chief- tains to seek the caller in the night. He had arisen and had declared himself to be the chosen 513 45444 V flow NIL? J 0 z L - Y . i . 5 EBF!! 'lfiilgiiifl E T 0 C c A: x 1- 'Q