Page 82 - YB1939

Tuesday, the 38th of September, 1938, saw a mob of curious wide-eyed, but eager, freshmen wander along Western Maryland's paths, climb her campus hills, and venture down her corridors for the first time. All day, the new class stormed and strolled onto the campus, every member a little awed by the bustle and efficiency of college, but confident that he could find his place in college life. New faces everywhere-questions-answers-nervous roommates trying to be casual-friends clinging together in their strangeness-v-everyone proud of his independence, straining at the leash, eager to be on his way. We were swept into "Orientation Week" (a term in itself new to us)-tests, examinations, and ad, dresses-all designed to assure the school that our bodies were as healthy as our souls and ideals, and our minds as fine as our high school honors testified (or maybe a little finer). We were welcomed socially with a formal reception and many small parties that gave us an opportunity to get to know others and to make ourselves known. In the bustle of events most of us forgot to be homesick. With the return of the upper classmen, our little millenium was somewhat shattered, for we immediately were made to realize that from now on we were only "rookies," and that "rookies" had a lot to learn. Our first few months were full of "learning," formal and informal. We were hazed by the sophomores, ignored somewhat by the juniors, and looked at kindly by the seniors. We soon became glib in campus slang; signing in and out became mechanical to the girls; R.O.T.e. uniforms became second nature to the boys (the girls will never really Seventy-e; ght