Virginia Military Institute - Bomb Yearbook (Lexington, VA)

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Class of ' S7. C%N THE AUTUMN, nearly two years ago, the Class of ' 87 made its debut upon the unknown, untried stage of military life at the Virginia Military Institute. From the quaking days of ratdom to the present day, which beholds us wrapt in the solitude of our own superiority, wielding the scabbard with firm, impartial justice, our career has been characterized by sundry freaks and sprees. (I use the word in its most innocent sense.) Rather indifferent, as a whole, to the accu- mulation of academic honors, our class has yet made somewhat of a rep with the Faculty. When, in after life, the Czar, surrounded by a happy family, un- folds to eager children the history of his trials and tribulations at the V, M. I., who knows but that a recital of his experience with the Cat Quartette will form a substantial constituent to the entertainment? Quien Sabe ? But when we anxiously search for the relics of true great- ness, we find few things worthy of space in these annals. Eighty-Seven has made her name imperishable, however, by an addition to the mathe- matical apparatus in the person of T , who is so thin that he is com- pelled to walk up the street twice to make a shadow. Col. Lyell uses him as an illustration of a straight line — the Shortest distance be- tween two points. The fame which- we have achieved upon the parade ground has not been so great as to make us unduly conceited. On the contrary, we boast some of the most accomplished Gim-riders in the corps. But we prospered, notwithstanding, and, in spite of many mishaps and blun- ders, we have grown to like, better and better, the curriculum and the ceremonies of the Institute, — for who can withstand the charms and nov- elty which this school, above all others, holds out to the seekers after knowledge ? Gradually we became accustomed to the ways of the Institute, and jogged along with nothing to disturb the even tenor of our way. except the enjoyable trip up the Valley to Winchester ; and then the Fourth,

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.18 - THE BOMB Howell, Albert, Georgia. HuBARD, J. L., . . ■ Virginia. Jacobshagen, F. a., Louisiana. Land, H. C. , Virginia. Letcher, G. D., . Virginia. Lewis, C. L. , Tennessee. Luck, A. B., Virginia. LuuwiG, J. A Virginia. Machette, C. C, Missouri. Maier, OttoTh., Louisiana. Mansfield, H., Illinois. Meem, H. G., Virginia. Moody, W. L., Texas. Moorman, M. N., . . . Virginia. Nottingham, T. J., Virginia. Palmer, E. A Virginia. Palmer, W. H. Virginia. Piazza, A. F. , Mississippi. Poindfxter, J. D., New York. Preer, C.- D., Georgia. Redfield, H. J,, New York. Richardson, John, ■ . . Virginia. RuFFiN, C. L. , Virginia. Spencer, J. R. , Virginia. Spotts. a. C, Virginia. Stewart, R. E. B., Virginia. Tennant, H., Montana Territory. Walker, J. F. , Virginia. Walker, M. H North Carolina. Western, PI U., Kentucky. WiLLARD, J. E District of Columbia. Wilson, St. J., Virginia. Wilson, R. L., Mississippi. Woodford, J. H. West ' irginia. Total Number 62.

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20 THE BOMB. the glorious Fourth, with its attending festivities, was upon us, and we heard, as cadets, for the first time, the sweet, sad notes of Auld Lang Syne, which, wafted upon the sultry, oppressive atmosphere of that well- remembered July day, filled us with glorious expectations of our coming vacation. Anticipation made way for reality, and, in course of time, the present was the past, and we found ourselves once more within the battle-scarred walls of old V. M. I. But the old familiar reveille found many names unanswered, many faces gone. Some remained away be- cause they didn ' t care to return, some because they couldn ' t. The vacant places were more than filled by the accessions made from the ranks of the new cadets. During the recent revival at the Institute, some o ' four class-mates professed religion, but the majority, we are sorry to state, are still doing business at the old stand. A reasonable share of honors, literary, military and athletic, has fallen to the portion of ' 87, and there is no reason why we can ' t afford to rest on our laurels, complacently stroke our manly chins and cogitate upon the brilliant record of the class we love so well. R. U. Culberson, Historian.