Quincy Rises, Harvard Smashes Yale: A Parting Glimpse of Fall Term '58 Exams Close the Term

Sprawled across a wide-screen horizon the events of 1958 moved slowly to their completion with various actors seeking their Oscars. The year was a good one for Pasternak, Castro, and Charles de Gaulle, who became immortalized by being named Time's Man of the Year, barely edging out Al Vellucci for the honor. But, with few exceptions, the plot was pretty dull, and most people sat back and waited for the short subjects. They came, in the form of hula hoops, mixed-mortality TV westerns, a talking satellite, and higher prices for vicuna coats.

Following an established world-wide trend, the University began the Fall Term with a shuffle in regime when it announced that Dean Leighton was to become Master of Dudley House, and John U. Monro was to serve as Dean of the College. In the wake of this move there followed weekly mass executions before thousands gathered in Soldier's Field Stadium, which the Administration cleverly passed off under the guise of football games.

Nevertheless, the University continued to emphasize clean living and disclaimed any policies of athletic recruiting or favoritism. Coach Yovicsin repeated his pledge to play the games "within the Ivy League Code," which everyone interpreted as meaning another losing year for the Varsity. And, despite the article about God and Charlie Ravenel at Harvard in Sports Illustrated, the Crimson was still losing more than it was winning.

A small university in New York proved that buffaloes are not extinct, and the football team's first encounter was indicative of events to come. Following the team's first loss, the Varsity Club mysteriously caught on fire. And, as a result, the Harvard Band, which lost most of its scores in the blaze, was added to the New York Times' list of the Hundred Neediest Cases.

John F. Kennedy came to Cambridge to ask the Economics Department how to write a Labor Reform Bill, and promised local citizens that his Senatorial campaign would be marked by "fewer tea parties" and a more down-to-earth approach. When the Senator cancelled his world-wide speaking tour, people took this to mean that he would campaign inside the State this time.

Following Washington's advice about "entangling alliances" the Student Council withdrew from the National Student Association, a move which aroused student apathy. A few weeks later, the first of several questionable elections was held, and nearly half of the college voted on the issue, some perhaps more times than others.

After a loss to Cornell which no one noticed, Boston's attention focused on wisps of smoke above the Vatican and the elevation of Cardinal Cushing--events which monopolized local front pages as to tempt readers to forget the Reformation had ever taken place. Occasionally politics managed to break into the headlines. Senator Kennedy returned to Cambridge, and, in an attempt to capture the "outer fringe" vote, dined with Councilman Al Vellucci.

In an effort to eliminate the growing mass of 9G students, Dean Elder proposed a plan limiting the number of years of graduate study to four. The plan, alternately referred to as the "No degree--flee!" plan or the "write or perish" proposal, was voted down by the Faculty. There was, in the words of Eliott Perkins, only "a peeping chorus of ayes" in favor of the proposal.

Professor Seymour Harris came up with a plan of his own, after concluding that every Harvard student would eventually join the Brahmins. Harris calculated that a college student would make $100,000 more than a non-college student, and could therefore afford to buy his education on credit, on a sort of learn now, pay later, basis. When speculation arose as to how he had arrived at the magic figure of $100,000, it was rumored that he had divided the annual Gross National Product by the number of Harvard students, and subtracted an odd number of Yalies. At any rate, he refused to tell John Kennedy how to write a Labor Reform Bill, and continued to work on his new book, an expose of the Affluent Society.

The football team caused some hopes to rise with a win over Lehigh, and then followed that with a triumph over hapless Columbia. The U.S. failed in 7David Riesman came to Harvard as first Ford Professor of Social Sciences. Riesman is now selecting a heterogeneous elite for his course on American character.