Riots, Mental Telepathy, Exams and Probation Among Vivid Memories of 1927's Initial Years

Newspaper headlines screamed about scandals, prohibition, and the Ku Klux Klan as hordes of eager freshmen invaded Cambridge during the windy September days of 1923. Tradition-ridden Harvard lived a life of its own, however--a life that could be just as exciting as that in the world outside the Square. Still, current events were able to filter into and disturb the University scene; sometimes they momentarily banished sex and football as bull session topics.

The KKK was creating have in the state that was then the U.S.'s "enfant terrible"--Oklahoma. Governor Walton, backed by President Coolidge, had proclaimed martial law and forbidden the state legislature to meet while he was trying to curb the Klan's activities. Later the Corfu incident, the World Court, Philippines independence, and French separation of the Rhineland were to give the freshmen plenty to think about.

Records began to fall immediately, With a 930 man registration, and ten more added later, the class broke all Harvard enrollment records including the previous high set by the Class of 1921 with 856 men. Some ascribed this increase to the new ruling allowing the top seventh of each preparatory graduating class to enter without examinations.

Probably the freshmen failed to appreciate that an improved registration system had been inaugurated in their honor. The now-common well-filled manila envelope first made its appearance; no longer would students have to go from one corner of Memorial Hall to another to get the necessary forms. Also there was a choice of three days in which to register. But the CRIMSON noting the innovation, philosophized. "After all, even with its modern methods, the University is much the same."

President Lowell officially welcomed the new students at a reception in the Union. There they heard Dean Briggs explain the new, and stiffer, scholastic ruling--three C's and a D for a minimum of four courses instead of two C's and a D for a minimum of five. Groaning they heard that a series of lectures would be added to English A.

Many changes had but little effect on the new class. They were indifferent to the news that Professor Copeland was on vacation so English 12 and the "evenings" at Hollis 15 would suffer a half-term lapse. That there was a record football turnout and that Edward A. Stevans was the new crew coach made little dent on most of them.

No Cuts

The first Monday of the term 138 freshman football hopefuls reported to Coach Campbell. Later they were to find his "no cuts policy" somewhat disillusioning, for Campbell admitted. "If the freshman squad becomes smaller, as it undoubtedly must. it will not be because men have been cut, but because they have been transferred to other squads."--i.e. dormitory teams.

To help the bewildered members of '27, the sophomores and juniors formed a Freshman Information Service. Those feeling a need for spiritual guidance attended Dean Sperry's half-hour Monday night talks for freshmen in Smith Hall. Over 300 felt the urge the first week, but enthusiasts dwindled thereafter. The class' physical health was not neglected--all had to sit through one lecture a week in "Freshman Hygiene." Also those not in some organized sport had to exercise at least three hours a week. The class soon had a record fall sport enrollment.

The more energetic went out for some activity--the Glee Club, orchestra, Band and instrumental clubs held tryouts. And the ROTC unit and Field Artillery Club held a "get acquainted session."

And to help the freshmen on the clean and narrow track, Lampy inaugurated a new 'clean humor policy' with its freshman issue. "To say that the Lampoon is about to reform is not quite the story," President F. H. Nichols '24 said, "for I think that the Lampoon has always been the cleanest of college comics. There have been. however, occasional lapses."

Prohibition and Yale keynoted much early fall dining room conversation. President Angell had greeted their Eli compatriots with the dictum that either they observe prohibition or face dismissal. "The University will not permit dissipation. No man can come to any great success at Yale who is known to be a dissipated man." Yale sophomores were required to sign a pledge swearing they would never take part in a riot. Harvard yearlings began to be doubly glad they hadn't strayed New Haven-way.

In these first few months when the newcomer was trying to melt into the college landscape, the CRIMSON'S weekly fashion column was solving his sartorial problems. "If you are interested in any question of dress or etiquette," the column stated, "write the 'Well Dressed Man' care of the Harvard CRIMSON and your letter will receive prompt and careful attention."

Course-choosing is always a problem and while some did their best to get all classes at 11 a.m. or later and not above the first floor of Sever, others jammed Biology 1 where 200 disappointed would-be frog dissectors were turned away. With only three main freshman, dormitories over 500 freshmen had to board in private houses; however most ate in one of the three Halls and attended the October smokers there.

It wasn't long before the freshmen learned the Rhinehart tradition; Smith Hall rose in rebellion against having boiled eggs alternated with boiled eggs at every breakfast and 75 signed fruitless petitions--no relief was forthcoming.

These were the days when every undergraduate at least professed an interest in athletics. Up to the Yale game, the 1923 football season was rather successful. After a 16 to 0 defeat at the hands of Dartmouth (bemoaned in those days as the "worst game since 1907") the team rolled over Tufts and Princeton. Then overconfidence set in; substitutes met an inspired Brown eleven while the regulars rested or watched Yale beat Princeton. Brown won 20 to 7.

The next week the team was in the peak of condition to meet the Blue on Soldiers Field. The freshmen joined the rally, cheered the final practice, and heeded the warning that "any man whose tickets are sold at a premium will be blacklisted." Hard-plunging Yale backs gave the visitors a 13 to 0 win in the driving rain. Hopelessly cheering till the last play, the man of '27 helped form a soggy 'H' with red and white handker-chiefs, tried lighting a Melachrino, took another nip at his pocket flash, and snuggled deeper into his raccoon coat. Afterwards he took his date to see the smash hit of the day, John Galsworthy's "Loyalties."

For some time the biggest college news was the publication of President emeritus Eliot's new book, "Harvard Memoirs," the inauguration of Radcliffe President Miss Ada Louise Strong, and a monkey who escaped from Apthorp House. The Harvard man's tranquil horizons were suddenly expanded when one October day he picked up the morning CRIMSON and read, "Ku Klux Klan--Awaits Moment to strike." "We may be inactive, but our influence is felt," were the words of the leader of the two-year-old Harvard branch. The undergraduate began to watch for flery crosses and was not reassured when the Klan tried to form a branch--Kamelia--at Radcliffe. The evil forces quietly vanished and the college calmly unveiled a memorial plaque to Theodore Roosevelt.

Later in the fall, the University anticipated the Social Relations Department by requiring 1,500 students to fill out a questionnaire which asked "Have you ever experienced mental telepathy?" Of the first 430 answers, 193 men replied in the affirmative, but the college did not release further information.

In January the undergraduates griped as they filed out another on prohibition. Although the drys stood 1,000 strong Harvard didn't side with the government and they failed to override the wets. Not quite surfeited, the CRIMSON ran a poll, this time on the Bok Peace Plan.

Athletic wise the class of '27 fared well until they met Yale, Demoralized by the previous week's defeat from the Tiger yearlings which soiled their otherwise clean slate, the freshman football team lost to Yale, 59 to 0. Stars Captain Leo F. Daley, Isadore Zarakov, and Al Miller were sidelined by injuries, however. Undefeated Yale also tripped the freshman football team, 2 to 1, on a last-minute goal. Captain Walter Ghorardi led the team to four wins, one tie, and two defeats. The Eli cross-country team showed their heels to Captain Sweede's men by a score of 20 to 29. Individually John Whitbeck won the Union singles tennis championship.

Back from vacation, and the Hygiene department reassured any freshmen feeling after-effects that they were a healthy class. Only 32.5 percent had reported they smoked and "only" 68 percent had poor posture (another 14 percent were "very poor"). Lest they get too cocky the department warned that 70 percent had systolic heart murmurs.

Just before January exams came the traditional mid-season sales: Raccoon coats were slashed to as low as $245, two-wheel brake Oakland roadsters ran about $839, and those essential commodities--gloves--as low as $1.95.

Meanwhile the Harvard Square Business Men's Association was campaigning to eliminate the subway kiosk. But when they discovered that having to walk from Central Square would drive way customers, the razing program went up in smoke. The rotunda increased traffic snarls and the CRIMSON noted that this was particularly dangerous for "untrained freshmen."

Exams came uncomfortably close. Freshmen went off to hear Bootch comic Sir Harry Lauder and then scuttled off for a last-minute cram. Meanwhile one dean told the Harvard Dames that "Girls, Clubs, tutorial schools and the 24-hour memory were demoralizing the college."

An ominous warning from the faculty that any "intellectual bootlegging" of lecture notes would be prosecuted sobered unprepared freshmen who thought that one of the Square tutoring schools would be just the thing. Still Widow Nolan's did a flourishing business and a New York firm succeeded in smuggling printed lecture notes--ostensibly designed for adult education--past the watchful deans. The class of '27 weathered the storm and breathed easily till the results came out.

Probation soon loomed its ugly head and the class mourned the loss of 45 jovial companions who departed, as a result of their mid-year showing. Dean Bacon spiked rumors that half the class was on probation. Coach Shaw ominously warned that "the success or failure of the freshman crew depends upon the men on probation." The Administrative Board alleviated the tension by announcing that that only three and a half C's were required to get off probation.

Not until April were the exact rank-list figures released. The class found that they had only 246 men 26 percent--on probation. Nine percent made the Dean's List, but perhaps the most envied intellectual was Henry F. Williams--the only group one freshman. Coach Shaw immediately selected his top 20 aspirants.

Hockey--Undefeated!

Meanwhile the winter sports had wound up their seasons. Captained by Clement D. Coady the freshman hockey team got a 4 to 0 win over Yale, and thus gained the honor of having the first undefeated hockey season since 1914. The freshmen wrestlers, captained by H. R. Wood, almost equalled its record, but Yale eked out a win. And the '29 basketball team ended a "disastrous season" by losing to Yale, 29 to 19.

During the spring the college atmosphere was explosive: Wilson died, the Teapot Dome scandal broke, and Copeland returned. The military admitted that you didn't have to take Military Science to play polo. Scared by the huge class of '27 the University decided early in March to limit the next year's freshman class to 1,000 men.

Wishing to show that it had acquired the necessary Harvard indifference, only 60 percent of the class bothered to vote for the Class Officers. However they managed to elect Leo F. Daley, president; Clement C. Coady, vice-president; John R. Burke, secretary-treasurer; and Isadore Zarakov, Student Council Representative. The '26 class officers thought-fully gave their successors a book of instructions.

A few weeks later Nathaniel Hamlen was appointed chairman of the Jubilee Committee; Bayard L. Kilgour, Jr., chairman of the Smoker Committee; and Austin Lamont, editor-in-chief of the Red Book.

On March 20, a throng packed Sanders Theatre celebrated the 90th birthday of President-emeritus Charles W. Eliot. Few freshmen saw him there; most caught a glimpse at the outdoor ceremonies in front of University Hall.

Just before the spring vacation Massachusetts Hall almost went up in smoke--and did to the tune of $5,000.

Russell vs. Lowell

After the holidays, intellectual fires blazed. Debates on socialism and the Harvard Democratic Club emerged. Bertrand Russell's talk on Harvard's "Intellectual Quarantine" brought a sharp counter from Lowell who denied that trustees were a great misfortune to universities. Undergraduates packed the Union to hear Russell a second time. "America is not ruled-by the Washington government," he said, "it is oil and Morgan that rule you." Meanwhile, the rise of fundamentalism brought a deluge of religious speakers to the college.

Stingy was what the seniors called the freshmen when the latter only tossed $159 into the sheet. The freshman and senior pictures are taken on the same day and traditionally the seniors don cap and gown to beg the price of their pictures from the Yearlings. This time the gift was snubbed. Two freshmen partially retrieved the class' fallen honor by contributing $5 apiece.

Three sport athlete Zarakov led the freshman baseball team to a successful nine win and five loss season. The Booth-Dutchin battery helped trip the confident Elis, 5 to 4. The tennis squad led the field--going in the Yale game undefeated. Freshman lacrosse and track had mediocre seasons--both being swamped by Yale. Gore Hall was overall interdormitory sport champion.

Jubilee and the Pops went by and exams came. Some freshmen stayed around to see the Olympic track tryouts in the Stadium, where five world records were broken, and to watch the baseball team and crew loose to Yale, but most left for home when their exams were over. And when he walked through Johnston Gate the confident man from '27 looked superciliously at the new freshman crop scurrying around.

The summary of the Class of 1927 will be continued in the next two issues.President Emeritus CHARLES WILLIAM ELIOT celebrated his ninetieth birthday on March 20, 1924. At Harvard his tradition lived on.