University of California Berkeley - Blue and Gold Yearbook (Berkeley, CA)

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Completed in 1914, the Campanile (or Satner Tower, as it ' s officially called) is the quintessential symbol or the city and the University. Patterned after the campanile of Saint Mark ' s Plaza in Venice and designed by John Galen Howard, it was funded by Jane K. Sather at a price of $144,000. Though the space within the walls of the Bell Tower was ori nally planned as graduate stu- dent housing, SIX floors of the tower now hold over 50 tons of human, dinosaur, and animal bones, many from the La Brea Tar Pits in Southern California. The bells of the Campanile not only herald each hour, but also chime a ten-minute pro- gram thrice daily. Careful listeners might some- Umes discern an Elvis Presley tune. All told, there are 6 1 bells covering a tonal range of four octaves. The speedy elevator ride to the top is free with UC ID, and $.50 otherwise. This is truly bargain entertainment, and one of the few fringe benefits of that $4,000+ a year educa- tion. ir t ' r . ■ ♦ . s iv , . , -, -

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1? SURVIVOR ' S .ALE Its a place of learning and of changes. Learning to accept, to tolerate, and to defy a changing era of the 90 ' s. It ' s the University of California at Berkeley, U. S. of A. As a high school senior, I could never quite forget the glamour, yes, glamour of the prospect of going to Cal. Finally, 1 was an adult, introduced to the secrets of stardom, success, and scholarship at a public institution of perhaps the highest caliber. I came to Berkeley thinking I might leave with some of that prestige having rubbed off on myself Fully en- trenched in rigorous academia, 1 leamed about more than just Pareto efficiency. Park ' s assimilation the- ory, the three-part F.l.T. principle to healthful ex- ercise, or Cicero ' s rhetorical devices. 1 leamed about people, about events, about an innocent-sounding place known as Cal. As a freshman, my first impression of Cal was its enormity. Guided only by the 307-foot tall Campanile as a landmark, I struggled with my warped innate sense of direction as I found my way around campus. In due time, as I finally narrowed my specific in- terests, I underwent the rite of passage of becoming a declared major. Life has never been the same since. Best of all, my classes became centralized in one building rather than scattered about the four comers of campus. After three years, 1 could htRt