Although I must admit that my short-term memory is perhaps a little frayed around the edges, my recollection of things from years past seems to remain relatively intact (or so I like to think). Lately, I seem to have focused on memories from “those good old days on the hill”. Let me share some of them, in no particular order, and certainly of no particular consequence other than the sheer joy of briefly recapturing my youth, and perhaps, yours as well.

I remember taking “Dirty Lit” with Vladimir Nabokov, the ground breaking for Statler Hall (the first college building designed as a Hotel School), those silly freshman beanies, white bucks, and the women’s posture silhouette pictures that were stolen (I think they were eventually returned, but the program was discontinued). I remember a 4 to 1 ratio of men to women, and that (I think) there was one day per year when men were allowed in women’s dormitory rooms (the door had to remain open, and especially important, everyone had to have at least one foot on the floor!) (My, how times have changed!), and I remember and a letter from “Miss Name Withheld” published in the Daily Sun.

We started with 1900 members in September of 1948, of a total undergraduate population of 9600—four years later we graduated 1250 seniors. In 1948, 50% of the male student population was WW II veterans, many of whom lived with their families in converted housing in “Vetsburg”. While we were there, Beebe Lake was drained, WVBR was taken over, soap suds were poured into the rowing tank in the Old Armory, a WSGA mass meeting in Bailey Hall was “disturbed” by a stink bomb, and Sebela Wehe finally retired after her 223rd “concert” on the front steps of the Ithaca Hotel (now long gone).

I remember President Malott’s inauguration (and the subsequent flap re the plagiarized portions of his address), slide rules, and a Student Council poll in which nearly half of all students admitted cheating. I recall Mummy and Majura social clubs making the national press because of excesssive drinking, and women knitting in class. I remember YASNY, and big bands—Vaughn Monroe, Claude Thornhill, Charlie Spivak, and Ray Anthony. I remember that ours was the first class to hold a Freshman Weekend, Cayuga’s Waiters, and beating Michigan in ’51, and that the cheerleaders were all men.

I remember also “the sense of the faculty”—any member advocating violent overthrow of the government could be dismissed, the outbreak of the Korean War, and its impact on our class, the coronation of Queen Elizabeth, the Lehigh Valley Railroad (occasionally on time), and that the legal drinking age in New York State was 18.

I also remember the lousy weather, the beautiful campus, the superb faculty, and, how strange, the fact that I really didn’t appreciate it all until years later. Perhaps that’s why it keeps on creeping back into my memories today. We never realized just how fortunate we were. I hope these pleased you, and perhaps brought on some memories of yours.

Paul Herman