Wake Forest University - Howler Yearbook (Winston Salem, NC)

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moment, and soon you arc reassured: if you are called into the service you will get full credit for the courses which you arc taking and will receive your diploma. You would like to sit and talk longer, but you see that some our else is standing in the outer door waiting, and besides there goes that bell again, calling you to your next class. Down tlie hall and to the right you enter one of the two doors labeled Registrar — just to make sure that you are going to get the diploma for which you have paid in toil and rash. A little Ki.i.iott B. Eari Bursar door is opened for you into the enclosure of the stair, and you are conducted into the private of- fice, where the Registrar receives you genially. While be is pulling out a photostatic ropy of your four years ' record, you wonder that one could have managed this office with its endless stream of records for eighteen years and still appear so youthful. But then you reflect that it is worry and not work that ages, and here is one whose highly efficient system of keeping the records and maintaining the standards may worry others at tunes hut never himself. Yes. your record is all clear thus far— a good record, and you will gel through if everything comes out all right this term. Daniel li. Bryan Bean of Liberal Arts Grady S. Patterson Registrar x4 -, -, -A - - ■ •

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THE BUILDINGS AND ADMINISTRATION Central in the array of college buildings and looking down upon scores of dark magnolias, the tower of Wait Hall keeps watch over successive generations of students. From this tower, and from the administrative offices on the floors below, the routine of all our college days — orderly and precise, in apparent informality — is timed and regulated, all the way from the imperious summons of freshman days when one hurries sleepily to class in a gray winter dawn to the last stroke of the hell signaling the end of the last class of our college careers. You enter Wait Hall this morning from the sunny side, and find yourself in the midst of the hum of noiseless typewriters flowing from beyond four doors that always stand open while the day ' s work is in progress. You cannot see the word President on the opened door to the left, but you know where to find him. Mrs. Pritchard, secretary, quiet, orderly, efficient, sits at her desk. Yes, the President is in, and the door to the inner office is open. He is glad to see you — sit down. The President is a builder, as you know — always working quietly, with no fanfare, seeming to have infinite leisure but never idle. Through the fourteen years of his administration the college has grown steadily and soundly, in spite of disastrous fires, depression and war, with new and greater buildings taking the places of the old or rising in new places, and with enrollment growing to the record capacity of 1,100. Now. when many colleges are surrendering temporarily or closing permanently, his enlargement program is progressing steadily, looking to a yet greater Wake Forest of adequate equipment and 2,500 students. The President is a dreamer, hut a dreamer of practical dreams that become realities. He may not be able to solve your problem for you, but he will give you sound advice, for which all other problems on his desk can wait. Feeling much better, and with thanks, you cross the hall, passing through a door inscribed Bursar — perhaps to pay your last fee, for your diploma, though not your final debt to the College. As you prop your elbow on the counter, a member of the efficient staff rises from a desk and meets you. with unfailing courtesy and good cheer. Yes, Mr. Earnshaw is in — you can see him at his desk in the small private office, figuring as usual. Looking many years younger than his thirty- eight years of service to the college would sug- gest, he is as much a part of the Wake Forest traditions as the magnolias, as unperturbed as the oaks, a symbol of quiet efficiency and sound judgment. Yes, he tells you, your diploma lias already been ordered. You pay your seven dollars happily and go your way, realizing that you will not come this way again. As you enter the hall again you pause, wonder- ing. Perhaps you are one of those who are trying to meet an inevitable deadline. What if you are- unable to get a further extension when your number comes up again next week? Long ago vou learned that the Dean is a wise and sym- pathetic counselor, knowing all the answers or knowing how you can find the answers. Crossing the hall, you barge through the outer office, not stopping to ask the indispensable secretary. Miss Godfrey, if you may enter — knowing from previous experience that you may. and welcome. The Dean knows how to be stern with those who need sternness, but he is more at ease when talking as a father or an elder brother with those who need guidance. You are at ease from the first Dr. Thurman D. Kitchin, President

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THE GORE GYMNASIUM From your class you hurry to the Library to is a unity of interest and there arc bonds of fel- return a reserved book within the time limit, and lowship — we have become more truly one family. then you race oyer to the chapel assembly, where you take a back seat where you can think un- disturbed. Here you relax, soothed by the music and by the voice of someone reading. Soon you arc listening, for the words of the speaker were chosen for you alone, or for others like you. Somehow the crisis lias drawn all of the College more closely together, you reflect, and given a new significance to assemblies like this. There and here we meet for family prayers, missing the members of the circle who arc absent, and reflecting, wondering, hoping, praying. The last organ note fades away, and suddenly you remember that there was a question about your physical education credit. You rush over to Gore Gymnasium to sec Coach Phil. All clear! And now — it is time for lunch. THE BAPTIST CHURCH SIMMON ' S DORMITORY