Salisbury University - Evergreen Yearbook (Salisbury, MD)

Page 10 text:

“Miss THIS OIL PORTRAIT, presented and unveiled in the college dining hall by the Alumni Associa¬ tion, January 28, is a constant symbol of the ap¬ preciation of the service of Miss Ruth Powell to the college since its founding nineteen years ago. It was painted by Miss Dorothy Mitchell, Salisbury artist and teacher. It was unveiled by the son of Mrs. Aline K. Hayman, an alumna, during the homecoming at the mid-winter com- 6 Ruth” mencement. The officers of the organization who so honored “Miss Ruth ' ' on this occasion, and for her sixtieth birthday are: Mrs. Sara Collins Kelly, president; Miss Imogene Caruthers, vice- president; and Mrs. Anna Jones Cooper, sec¬ retary. Dr. Ida Belle Thomas, alumni advisor, spoke truly at the unveiling when she said, “No one has done more than ' Miss Ruth ' to further the lives and the fortunes of students.

Page 9 text:

The very last copy is written, And the galleys are read and reread ; The cuts are at the engraver ' s, And all the instructions are said. At last the Staff may stop working, They may pack up their thinking caps, And dream of the Evergreen’s coming, While taking their much-earned naps. Apologies to Rudyard Kipling. ANY DREAMING done by Publications Staff members has to be reserved for after the Evergreen goes to press. Behind the staff room doors, they plan and plan for the Evergreen and then set to work to build it up word by word and page by page. The mystery of the creation of a book is revealed to Staff members. To them the volume which you are now reading is more than printed words. They know the laughs, the struggles, the earnest work and deep thought behind and between and under each line. They see an ugly hen-scratched dummy” and precious, like a cocoon, because of the secrets which were to grow, until with spring, they emerge in the form of a full- grown book. They re member copy sheets strewn with corrections, additions, and de¬ letions. They remember deadline dates and last minute rushes. They know that more than pencil and paper and printer ' s ink go into a book. S.T.C. student, before you delve into the pages of your Evergreen in search of your picture, before you chuckle at some incident preserved in your book, before you ask the person standing next to you to decorate its pages with his autograph, hear a word from the Staff that made your book possible: We have enjoyed making the Evergreen, 1944 . There were wartime obstacles which had to be surmounted, but we chose to scale them because you felt that the preservation of your college memories could not be given up. As you read your book, let it become a storehouse for your reminiscences of 1943-44 at State Teachers College. The Evergreen can record only outstanding events. You know personal deta ils of which we hope you will be reminded. We had fun writing what you were living; we hope you ' ll like re¬ living what we were writing.

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This Changing World TO WEEP for peace, yet learn to laugh in war is the destiny that a bruised world flings to its youth. S.T.C. has seen, and is yet to see its effect many times. One after another, young men enroll to become her students while they may. For a time they mingle in her halls and study in her class¬ rooms, working and playing with no out¬ ward expression of their realization of the inevitable end of their brief college days. Then one day they lay aside their books and go guietly away to take up their guns. Perhaps their class or some other organi¬ zation recognizes their leaving with a fare¬ well party, but with that they are gone. Theirs it is to do the hard part of a task to which all humanity must directly or in¬ directly commit itself. Theirs it is to fight for a world ' s lost right to peace and life. This time we must not fail—they must not fail—to restore those important values which have been lost. They leave their college life with the silent oath that they shall not fail and the silent plea that we at home shall not let them down but shall do our part on the home front. Our boys do not forget their Alma Mater when they have gone forth to war. There is always a fresh supply of letters and cards and pictures from Italy, Africa, Aus¬ tralia, England, or United States camps displayed on the large bulletin board in the main corridor. Their college remem¬ bers her boys, too. A new name is added to the Service Plague whenever a boy leaves and the English Speech classes, as well as unorganized groups, correspond with those whose addresses are known. Shirley Churchill has written a poem which expresses the feeling all of us have for the boys to whom we said goodbye: Prayer for a Soldier Please, Qod, watch over him tonight, ’Twas not his will that he be sent to fight. Stay near him wherever he may be, For at this hour he has special need of Thee. It wasn ' t easy to see him go, And when we ' d meet again I didn ' t know. I wanted to be brave and so refused to cry, Thus with a smile I said goodbye. He left his home for some distant shore, But we all know what he ' s fighting for To make a world where men be free ; And when it ' s over, please send him safely home to me. 7