Traumatic Day for Yalies As 90 Get Old Society Tap

NEW HAVEN, May 3, 1951--Yale passed through an annual emotional crisis this evening in the courtyard of Branford College.

This was Tap Day, the day when Yale's senior societies bestow on Eli juniors the highest honor or the deepest heartache that can come to a young man in New Haven.

Tap Day tension started building around noon today. Some juniors passed up lunch. Others slipped into Mory's Tavern to ease the strain, while the societies readied their lists of nominees.

Shortly before 5 p.m. close to 500 juniors field quietly into the courtyard. Above them society members, all dressed in sober grey flannels with black ties and gold tie, pins, took positions at Branford windows, ready to direct their tapping colleagues below.

I ambled through the waiting crowd of juniors, listening to the nervous laughter and the distracted small talk, watching the Elis eat their nails and paw the grass.

At three minutes after five the courtyard grew rigid and still. A few seconds later someone in a Branford window clapped his hands, and immediately the men in grey flannels began their work.

A few feet away from me four tappers--representing Skull and Bones, Scroll and Key, Wolfshead, and Book and Snake--descended simultaneously on the broad and waiting shoulders of football player Ed Senay, each man calling out the name of his group.

Senay, confused, turned and scanned the four gold tie pins, nodded to the man wearing Skull and Bones, and then dashed away as by-standers applauded.

Another junior had a tougher decision to make. Struck from behind by an agent of Elihu, this junior paused briefly and then shook his head. A few moments later another tap came, coupled with the cry of "Bones." The junior nodded, grinning broadly.

His classmates cheered and then tried to figure out whether the Bonesman's first refusal was a heavy gamble or whether he had been forewarned of election to Skull and Bones.

A Few Say "No"

A few came to the courtyard only to say "no," possibly influenced by a recent fiurry of anti-society essays in college publications. One junior sent a Skull and Bones tapper away with a crisp negative. He accepted the congratulations of two friends, telling them: "That was the toughest one to turn down."

Another junior, a prominent Yale journalist, was less resolute. He had been a public opponent of the society system, but when his moment came he contentedly trotted off at the heels of a Bones agent.

After 15 minutes the societies started to slam their windows to give notice that their tapping was done. Each time a window closed the juniors about me looked up anxiously, trying to determine from what quarter a blessing might still descend.

Finally five society windows had closed, signifying that 75 juniors had succeeded. But Skull and Bones windows were still wide. For ten minutes Bonesmen circled the lawn, searching for a certain elusive junior.

The the 90th man was located and Bones shutters clattered. For the men left on the lawn, the disappointment was final but at least the tension was over Most juniors hurried off to their evening feed, while a few lingered on to watch the grey fiannel men parade, lock-step, from the courtyard. The society seniors marched out swiftly, saying nothing and looking neither to the right nor the left