Towson University - Tower Echoes Yearbook (Towson, MD)

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everything but God. God ! I began to pray as hard as I'd ever done before. No. I didn't get down on my knees, but I prayed silently. Please God, hear me now! Don't let Mrs. Dawson get any worse! Make the doctor hurry! Please, God! I think some tiny hope in miracles kept us going as the minutes ticked around the kitchen clock. The children were getting restless-Irm was beginning to whimper again. I wasn't able to do much for Mrs. Dawson, so I turned to the children. How about trimming the tree? Your mother would like to see it all finished before the doctor gets here, I'm sure. They agreed and the tree began to bloom like a flower, first with balls, then tinsel. The kerosene lamp shone on it and it sparkled into a haloed triangle. The children quieted down, became interested in their fascinating work Mrs. Dawson rallied a bit. I bent low over her, and she murmured in semi-delirium asking if we could sing Christmas carols. We began with Silent Night, Holy Night. The children's sweet young faces and voices seemed to give deeper meaning to the comforting message, and to lend some sort of calm to the harassing situation. Mrs. Dawson at last fell into a troubled doze. The doctor came about an hour later, took one look at the patient, and decided that he must operate immediately-one of the many kitchen-table emergencies the country phy- sician must face. Ben and Irma were becoming frightened again, so while Ev helped Dr. James, I put them to bed, with promises that Santa Claus would surely visit them be- fore morning. Poor tykes, they were exhausted, and fell asleep immediately. One of the hardest things I had to do was resist the temptation of crawling into bed myself. But I dragged downstairs to help as much as I could. Ev was holding a flashlight for the doctor, for the glow from the kerosene lamp was too feeble for the delicate operation. lt was like a bad night- mare-so vivid and grotesque, and seemingly so long, although over so quickly. When Mrs. Dawson was in bed and the red swabs and gauze cleaned from the floor and table, Dr. James left us with careful direc- tions, saying he would come early next morning. All night, Ev and I took turns watching Mrs. Daw- son. Though tired, we were relieved and happy in the knowledge that it would not be too sad a Christ- mas, after all. By morning, Mrs. Dawson was completely out of danger. The doctor brought her more good news in a letter he had picked up at the general store, giving her word of Mr. Dawson's safe arrival overseas. DECEMBER - 1944 As Ben and Irma put it, when they opened their gifts, Gosh, we're pretty lucky after all. Santa took care of just everything! Yes, he did, I assured them. And don't forget that God helped us all, and that He will always help us all! EILEEN LYNCH Clubs HE MEMBERS OF THE LITTLE THEATER Guild have rolled up their sleeves and gotten to work. A committee is cleaning out the costume room Cwhich most of us didn't know existedj in the Ad Building. Now don't think they're not doing any- thing in the line of drama. The members are planning a program to be at a Christmas assembly. They also have visions of presenting a play in the spring. Having the twenty some Goucher girls on the campus with us has brought about a feeling of, Gee, you're nice, I want to get to know you better. The Hockey game held Wednesday, November 15th helped our girls to really get acquainted with some of the Goucher girls. After the game the Athletic Associa- tion provided cider and doughnuts for the players. By the way, the score was one to one. The Natural History Group wasn't satisfied with furnishing those deligtful breakfasts which we en- joyed so much in the Glen. The members gave a supper with Mother Nature as hostess one evening and talk about fun! And the food? Delicious! Although the orchestra hasn't made an official ap- pearance since the Clubs Assembly last month, it has been functioning, and very well too. The member- ship has increased just about double. One little blonde senior has even taken to playing the trumpet. If you just can't wait for the orchestra to make a public appearance stop outside the auditorium some Friday morning between eight and nine and you'll hear some music what sends you. Mrs. Cuthbertson, secretary of the Middle Atlantic region of the Student Christian Movement, visited the campus this month to talk with and advise the officers and members of the S.C.A. Mrs. Cuthbert- son gave some very helpful suggestions to the Student Christian Association for spreading its membership to the day students of this college. To start this move- ment the S.C.A. presented a chapel assembly. 5

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- -A COUNTRY CHRISTMAS-- OW WELL I REMEMBER THAT DAY before last Christmas Eve! Ev, my girl friend, and I were standing on the deck of the Bay ferry, watching the blustering wind ruffle the water into white caps, which splashed the sides of the laboring ferry. It was quite rough sailing-windy and wet, with the ferry cumbersomely ploughing into one trough of water, then another. The sky was icy gray, streaked with yellow and with little black puEs of clouds scudding back and forth overhead. When the ship docked and we began to walk the country back- roads to the farm, Hakes of snow were already begin- ning to drift silently down, settling on the barren landscape, with its gaunt bare trees and bushes-the empty furrowed brown fields. We'd be glad to get to the farm and settled in the little house, pockmarked with the storms and winds of the years. just the housekeeper would be there when we arrived, and Queenie, the collie dog. They'd welcome us with light and warmth and food. We'd put our packages of supplies and Christmas gifts on the hearth, and after warming up a bit We'd go out into the storm again, to our neighbor's house, a mile away. Our lirst Christ- mas on an isolated farm! It sounded like fun-but how exciting it was to be we had no way of knowing. The Dawsons were our nearest neighbors. Mr. Dawson was an oiler on a Merchant Marine tanker and, they believed, was now on his way over-seas. Mrs. Dawson was running the farm alone and taking care of Irma and Ben, the two children. We were to share our Christmas with them-help them trim the tree and open the gifts at midnight. We had planned to leave for the Dawson farm about seven o'clock, taking the stable lantern and a flashlight with us. The drifts would not be too deep by then, and if the storm became worse, we could stay overnight. We were pre- paring to leave when the telephone rang. I remember being surprised at the time that the telephone lines weren't down. We waited to see who could be call- ing, and the white face of the housekeeper, after she had answered, warned us that something was wrong. I grabbed the telephone and said, Yes, who is it? A small scared voice came thinly over the line-a voice I recognized as belonging to seven-year-old Ben Dawson. He was half crying. Mommy's so still-she won't wake up. I know she's awful sick, 'cause she kept her hand to her side and kept moaning and tellin' me to call somebody quick. All right, Ben-we'll come right away! Keep your 4 mother covered up, and we'll get a doctor and get there as soon as we can. Help us to-Hello, hello! The line went dead. Quick, Ev! Walk down to Fox's I turned to Ev. store and get him to take his car and drive me to Stevensville for Dr. james. The line's out. I'll go to Dawson's and see what I can do for her until the Hurry! doctor gets there. We hurried out into the storm and the blizzard seemed to increase in fury. My coat and boots were heavy with snow and my eyelashes frozen together by the time we reached the other farm. Ev went on ahead to see about the doctor. Neither the lantern nor the flashlight helped much, for the wind was blowing handfuls of snow into the feeble light. Ben was watching at the window and hurried to open the door-tow-headed Ben, still showing a trace of his summer tan. But he was frightened now almost to the point of panic. As I stepped inside, I looked around quickly. Mrs. Dawson was a still, dark, huddled mass on the living-room couch. The fire in the room's pot-bellied stove had died down and the room was lighted by a small kerosene lamp on the old-fashioned roll-topped desk. The room was chill and dark, and groping shadows stole out from the corners, merging with other shdows thrown out by the furniture. The naked, untrimmed tree stood in a corner of the room, looking forlorn and dispirited. Scattered balls and unopened packages cluttered the floor around it. There were just three sounds, the tick of the kitchen wall-clock, the sputtering of a piece of green kindling in the stove, and, from a darkly hidden chair, the muffled sobs of a frigtened child. That's Irm crying, said Ben, trying to muster up a last shred of courage. I'll see about her later. Right now we're got to look after your mother. Go get some kindling wood from the shed and bring it in here. Don't get it wet. Mrs. Dawson was not asleep, but was almost un- conscious with pain. It looked like appendicitis to me. I had Ben pump some water fnom the kitchen sink and applied towels to Mrs. Dawson's hot fore- head. The house was beginning to warm up, but I was plenty worried. What if Ev had been lost in the storm? The drifts were almost up to the windows by now and snow' was pelting down harder every minute. Could the doctor get through to us? I tried to put such things out of my mind, but there wasn't much I could do, and I had more than enough time to think- with that white wall of silence cutting us ol? from THE TOWER LIGHT

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Um. 14pp.o.in1fmen.15L T WAS EXACTLY THREE YEARS AGO - IN SEP- tember, 1941 - that we entered S.T.C. For some of us, the time passed quickly. In February, 1944, we could hardly believe that we were the seniors who, in seven months, were to slip from under the responsibility of the state and slip into our own responsibilities arising in our own classes. Now we are on the other side of the desk. Because there were so few of us, we were pretty close to each other, but now the vast systems of Baltimore City and Maryland counties will sepa- rate us physically - even though we will Wonder how the others are getting on. There seems to be a concentration of new teachers in southern Baltimore. Curtis Bay boasts a fair percentage of '45 Calias '44Q. Rose Silverberg 'has a 5A fand is she happy, she did her practice teaching in the same gradejg Iudy Flower has a fourth, Vera Schunke delves into second-grade material, and Margaret Dryden is trodding a brand new path in her first grade. Brooklyn added Cecelia Hoffman and Shirley Adams in six and 3B respectively, to its faculty. Louise Davis, also with a third grade, commutes to Brooklyn, but in a different school. Number 84 - the former practice center - claimed three girls. Alice ZieHe in a combination 3A-4B fnbut what a room I -have - no closets! j, Dorothy Beatty in a 3B1 fshe likes the 1 after the gradej, and Edith Weaver in the second ful wish my desks were movablelnj. All three have done one term of their student teaching, in the school, and Alice has her third-graders in her fourth now. Katherine Millman is in Number 4-combination lBlA-- all that seat work , moans Millman. Dorothy Mayers has a 6B in School 92 - with all the fifth and sixth grade science. Poor Mayers - no music at all. West Baltimore schools profit by our experience, too. Kitty Cragg at School 68 in Catonsville, has a combination 5B-5A. It's just around the corner, and she knows many of the people there. Edna Mae O'Keefe teaches a second grade in Irvington - not far from her home, either. Naecarma Collector rides to Ten Hills every day for her combination 3A-4B. In a slightly different direction, Doris Lample puts pictures on her numerous bulletin boards for second graders in School 34. East Baltimore has been slighted a little in number but not in quality. Irma Di Marcantonio has the fourth grade in Highlandtown - just a short walk to school - nice, isn't it? Marguerite Ruppertsberger was scheduled for the fifth grade in the same school, but Henry comes first, so she's in Florida. To the north, Dorothy Cox is situated in Number 99 - fifth grade. How long will it be before you are another practice teacher there, Cox? 6 Because of junior and senior teaching, there is a dearth of news about permanent positions for the county girls. The majority follows in November. Our only two are Mary Shep- ley, who has a combination third and fourth grade in Ger- mantown, Montgomery County fwill your model be the campus school, Mary?j, and Alice Lee Iones. Alice Lee is in Brooklyn Park ful wish I knew what grade I haveuj. Guess she knows by this time. So now we're on our own - Good Luck to 'us all! Strictly Feminine - f Continued from page sy Have you noticed Alice Gartrell's shoes? They have Duke 2 written all over them. Annie Naegele plays the field - but definitely? Flash! The Navy's top man at the moment. Anchors Aweigh. Iean Warfield's interest lies in South Carolina in the form of a certain I-larry. When do we see a ring? Doris Hale's interest lies in the farm, but the Navy seems to be holding it's own. Ellen Carroll, personality plus, likes letters from Cumber- land. Do you ever writelhim some of your clever poetry? Well, Well! Another manahater is Dot Long! What have the men been up to? Playing the field seems to be Ruth Iane PoE's preference, too. When 'are you going to settle down? Pretty Audrey Crawford should put down her books and concentrate on the boy next door. How about it? Cute Eleanor Van Dyke made quite a hit with a dashing soldier at the prom. We hear Severna Park holds an attraction for Leah Koutch. Wonder what he looks like. Ruth de Hoff has been seeing star dust with a boy from Hopkins. Angela Grochowski and Helen Pennock are two very sweet girls who keep their personal life really personal, as do Mar- garet Hennlein and Dorothea Chenworth. Sorry, no info. A certain soldier certainly finds scatter-brain Betty Brooks very attractive. Could be love. Welve noticed Iune Stevens and Connie Gruhn taking at- tractive-looking letters out of their mail'box.,Does anyone know who they're from? Ruby Kemp certainly spends a lot of time in front of the mirror. Which one is she getting ready for? A perfect word to describe Mary Hartman is gadabout. Where does she fin-d the men? Little Louise Koch has one fear in life-that is getting fat. Pardon us while we laugh. fContinued on page 8, THE TOWER LIGHT