N
October 2
We P^e^a^e
This is our year. This is what we cons
ciously or unconsciously prepared for all sum
mer. We prepared for Salem and Salem pre
pared for us.
Freshmen prepared by reading letters from
the Student Government and wondering what
Alice was like; by reading letters from Senior
Advisors and big sisters and wondering if
they really would help; and by checking
credit points with the Salem bulletin.
Through the ^summer freshmen tried to
picture dorm life and classes under professors
with Ph. D.’s; wondering what the catacombs
and Scorpions were and if their prince charm
ing really did go to Davidson.
Sophomores prepared by planning to have
more fingers in more campus pies than there
had been time for the year before; by resolv
ing to be extra nice to freshmen during rat
week and then—changing their minds. So
phomores also thumbed through fashion maga
zines, shopped and then hoped that their black
dress would have the prettiest mink trim in
the dorm.
Juniors prepared by writing letters to little
sisters and thinking how time had flown since
they were little sister, too, and by thinking
seriously about choosing a major. Juniors
also wondered how a class of hungry seniors
could be fed at the Junior-Senior Banquet
and if that battered trunk would hold up for
two more years.
Seniors prepared by trying to get used to
the idea that next year this time the cruel
world would be waiting; by wondering how
to teach freshmen how to sing the Alma Mater
and make them understand that it’s really
quite pretty when Mr. Peterson sings it. Sen
iors also searched for a hair style that would
look ravishing under a mortar board and tried
to muster up enough dignity to become the
gown.
All this time Clewell and Strong were get
ting new paint jobs; the dining room walk
icas being broadened for the 8:15 breakfast
rush; the new chapel was being planned and
the Book Store was ordering books and more
books. The new station wagon was being
broken in, and professors were returning t6
campus with new ideas.
Faculty, staff and students have all pre
pared for this our year. Since this is our
year, we ourselves must use it. How will we
use it? Next May we’ll know how it has been
used, but getting to next May, remember,
takes preparation too.
S. J. C., A. P. B.
■'Yow mast be Scnib'«- Advisor.
'X'm o. 'CIO#! At.
Editor’s note: This cartoon was drawn by a former Salem student.
Small Town
By Alison Britt
Don’t believe that my town is
good or bad or typical. It’s not.
But it’s mine. It does not com
pletely surround me as it did when
I played hopscotch on unpaved
streets and sang in its high school
chorus, but it has had its effect.
It has left me a small-town person
who is just beginning to become
aware.
It’s main street is named “Main
Street’’, but arched trees do not
meet above it. In summer the sun
sets at Its end in a blinding glare,
meaning difficult driving for travel
ers, but meaning larger peanut and
cotton crops for us.
The production of peanuts and
cotton along with the making of
baskets in our mill, keeps my town
alive. The stores, built only on
one side of Main Street for a rea
son that is aimystery to me, sell
clothes and hardware only when
the farmers sell peanuts and cotton.
But whether the peanuts prosper
or not, Saturday thrives. The side
walks are filled with farmers, their
families, and Negro tenants.
The boys and girls fight or flirt
as is fitting for their age; the men
spit tobacco juice and swap stories;
the women, clutching handkerchiefs
to mop their foreheads, remark
enviously on their neighbor’s new
hat.
The little town girls put up stands
in vacant lots to sell old clothes,
often lowering the price of a 50c
doll for an eager-faced little color
ed girl.
My town is not a lazy town ex
cept on Sunday afternoon; it is
not a bustling town except on
Saturday; it is not a typical “Main
Street, U. S. A.’’ It is a town with
its own way of life whose people
love, fight, suffer—and go to the
P. T. A.
The Willow
iWie ciOnfiM Pmm ibMcfame
OFFICES Lo’wer floor Main Hall
Do-wntown Office 304-306 South Main Street
Printed by the Sun Printing Company
Subscription Price $3.00 a year
Published every Friday of the College year by the
Student Body of Salem College
Editor-in-Chief Alison Britt
Associate Editor Connie Murray
Managing Editor Solly Reiland
Feature Editor Betsy Liles
Copy Editor Bebe Boyd
Make-up Editor Donald Caldwell
Factorial Editor Lu Long Ogburn
Music Editor Edith Flagler
Sports Editor Lou Fike
Editorial Staff: Laurie Mitchell, Jean Edwards, Sarah'Out-
land, Barbara Allen, Sue Harrison, Louise Barron, Jackie
Nielsen, Eleanor SmU;h, Martha Thornburg, Diane Knott.
Francine Pitts, Betty Tyler, Jane Brown, Betty Lynn
Wilson, Mary Anne Raines, Freda Siler, Carolyn Knee-
burg, Anne Edwards, Sandra Whitlock.
Business Manager Joan Shope
Advertising Managers Maggie Blakeney,
Marguerite Blanton
Circulation Manager Toddy Smith
Btj.'siness .Staff: Sally Hackney, Peggie Horton, Carolyn
Watlington, Betty Saunders, June Kipe, Claire Chestnutt,
Diantha Carter, Ann Butler. Thelma Lancaster, Mary
McNeely Rogers, Betty Morrison. Bebe Brown.
Typists ..' Joyce BiHings, Ann Butler, Eleanor Smith
Faculty Advisor Miss Jess B.yrd
Etlitor s note: This essay was re-
ceived last week from Peggy
Chears, Associate Editor of the
Salemite last year.
The lofty, graceful willow tree
stands near Bitting Dormitory. It
has been on Salem campus for
many years. It has seen many
classes of seniors come and go,
anxious, yet sorrowful—anxious, to
e.xplore the vast unknown, known
as “Future,” and yet sad to leave
friends and Salem. And, with each
of these Senior Classes goes a
store of treasured Salem memories
which the willow tree shares.
There are memories of treasured
traditions:—the formal opening with
caps and gowns, tree planting. Sen
ior Vespers and caroling, the elect
ing and installing of new officers.
May Day festivities. Hat Burning,
the Senior Banquet, the Junior-
Senior, and, finally, graduation.
Do you remember the trials and
the comedy of Orientation week
and Rat Week? Do you remember
the words of comfort you gave and
received ? And do you remembei:
the hours you spent reading joke
books in the Book Store ? Do you
remember the parties on third floor
Clewell when boxes came from
home ?
Do you remember the Hallo
ween pranks — pie-beds, greased
door knobs, and the ringing of the
class bell ? Do you remember sun
bathing and sneaking into the
swimming pool—dressed or undres
sed ? Do you remember racing
with the church clock with your
dates ? And do you remember those
walks to “God’s Acre” and the com
fort you found there? Do you re
member sitting on the campus after
supper singing and talking?
And do you remember the gossip
ing. the bridge games, and the
hours spent in club meetings and
in working on the Salemite? With
out these things, Salem would be
just another school.
Betsy Liles
Fanny Freshman was herded into the toij
with the four others. The blindfold wasi,
moved while Fanny’s senior advisor snat||
“Right; left, stoop.” Fanny assumed the hJ
position while Slinky Senior whipped outlj
cigarette holder and the handbook, a
licately began. “Now, guhls, you are
flip through the handbook and learn i
standards of the guhls of 1772.”
Fanny opened the first volume of the 1
book and turned to page 4849. Four |
later Slink’s voice was still droning on»i
rules and rules while poor Fan’s eyelids J
against sleep.
Through the window, the moon was tU
and whiffs of tobacco wafted throiiil
the curtains. Breathing a sigh, (Pan J
surprised she still could breathe after theli|
rage of tests) Fan began to think ahoi
new life as a college girl. College was i
had ever hoped for in her wildest momenJ
the cute men that beat their knuckles raw ij
bloody against the dorm doors begging
beseeching her for dates, hen sweet cozy#
(Miss Bessie had removed all the broomsj
• the walls had been painted in soothing 1
and white stripes with her serial number«
broidered on her pillow case), and fhe stii
latiag classes on acids, protozoa, uni
quantities, and French verbs . . .
Then Fan remembered HER: Rosy
mate. Rosy was the athletic type. Onllil
first Sunday, Rosy had somersaulted in
room humming “Mr. Touchdown, U. S, i|
and before Fan could even murmur a
Rosy threw up the window, let out a 1
shriek at the tainted tobacco air, and I
did pushups. After touching her toes 5(
Rosy slapped Fan on the back and
“Hello, keed. How’s tricks? Hmmmmiii!|
With an agonizing grip. Rosy
Fan’s hand and pinched her arm to seel|
big her biceps were. “Ug, puney.
guess you’ll have to do. Grab those bart^
out in the hall and gimme a hand witll
footlocker, will ya?” Dragging the redl
Rosy’s gym equipment in, Fan
smile. By supper, Rosy had fitted her tB
ing mat and trapeze into their humble i
and pitched Fan’s bed into the closet. “Bi
of room for a little mosquito like you,
explained.
Fan’s hack had bristled, at the thouglt]
being called a mosquito but she whim
not a word. She was determined to get
with Rosy, no matter what! She even [
leapfrog down to the dining room with I
At supper her back bristled agaui.
being a health addict, squeezed the juice
her asparagus for an appetizer and i
that Fan drink it. “It’ll make you
like me! See, keed? Just feel my bi
Rosy made a fist and two mountains a
her arm. “Real gone, eh?”
That night before Rosy and Fan wbII
sleep, Rosy insisted that Fan take fouroij
vitamin pills, and join her in pushups 1*
she fell exhaustedly into the closet anJ
bed ...
Suddenly, Slinky^ Senior’s voice broke i
Fan’s meditations. “That is all the rules *|
gonna go over tonight. Y’all know tkei
will be tomorrah. Report in Pain Hall'
four packs of notebook paper, and
dozen pencils.” Fan gathered her wear)'®
body .up out of the Hindu position ■
marched back to her dorm.
With supreme effort, she dragged “fj
third floor Clewell. Opening the door 1
room, she heard bitter sobs. Rosy
the trapeze crying, “Oh, Fan. The dos**]
rible thing has happened. I’ve been
the,. Infirmary, and the nurse has disc^|
that I’ve been leading too strenous a J
must give up all my exercising—even It
were still very much a part of bells—until I’m better.”
Salem because of their memories. Fan managed to say that it was too'
The tears shed under the weep- a shudder of relief passed through her
bm eS TearToTHs "ow flowed through berl
each year holds new things for Fan picked up her handbook and be?fj
study with renewed zest. In a half
had memorized all one thousand of lb*
and all verses of the Alma Mater, bai^
she was putting Rosy to bed. Fan coj
College is real goae once you
hmaamm, keed?”
The serene willow has known all
these things, and has seen the ef
fects they had on each senior.
Somehow, toward the end of the
year, seniors seem to be drawn
closer to the willow. They sit be
neath the tree and reminiscence:
for there is a common bond to
draw them together.
Soon after the seniors arrived,
the green willow lost its leaves.
Throughout the winter, the willow
looked bare to the average visitor,
but the seniors kept their eyes on
the willow.
They strained to see the first bit
of green appear. On that Spring
morning when the first green ap
peared, another event occured.
The elections had concluded . and
the seniors shed their offices. The
juniors took their places, and a
new growth covered the campus.
The willow had survived another
year, and now, its rich, green coat
seemed more luxurious than ever
to the seniors. To everyone else,
the willow’s new leaves were simply
a phenomenon of nature, but the
change was a symbol to eadh grad
uating senior.
The seniors had changed too.
'To the average person they looked
just about the same, but they had
grown and survived another sea
son. The seniors themselves
couldn’t explain the change.
They were no longer integral
parts of Salem because new people
had taken their offices, and they
were going to leave. But they
still
new people. Others must come
and hear the. secrets of the willow.
And the graceful, green willow re
mains near Bitting to whisper
secrets and to remind graduating
seniors that each year a new
growth comes to Salem.