Jane Ann Slater, Donna Baker, and Marilyn Mills did a clever take-off on "Take a Little Tip From Father." Our act became part of a traveling assembly taking us not only all over the state, but also into Idaho and Nevada to promote the need for a four-year school. The social clubs added a unique dimension to the campus. They were the lifeblood of the student activities. I remember the great rush parties. I remember the rush party when Dean Dai ley fell down a flight of steps with two quarts of beer and didn't spill a drop. He kept his mouth shut. We had great weekly assemblies. We had great student body cohesiveness. We had forums and speeches and entertainment. I remember J. Clair Anderson's Musettes and Roland Parry's Dorian Singers. At about this time, at one of the assemblies Rulon Garfield gave what I have always called the famous "Seven Acres" speech. He stood up and said "There is the Univer- sity of Utah to the south with 375 acres, 16 buildings; Utah State Agricultural College to the north with 200 acres, 19 buildings; and here we are at Weber with 3 buildings on seven acres." Ernie Bingham was the student body president and led a student delegation down to the legislature. Some legislators came up with some of the most ridiculous "facts" I have ever heard. We had 1,750 students in our student body, and people were getting up in the legislature (largely from that institution from the north) and crediting us with having fewer than 1,000 students. We demonstrated from the balcony. We made noise. And what did they do? - they kicked us out. We were dismayed at the process of government. We lost that year in gaining our four-year status, but we were given $50,000.00 to purchase land for a new campus with the proviso that $50,000.00 would be raised in the community. We were witnessing one of the greatest chapters in the history of Weber State because the community raised not just the $50,000.00, but over $74,000.00. We purchased 175 acres in the foothills just east of Ogden where the campus is today. Our move from the old campus has been hard for the alumni because many of our memories are associated with that old school. Each social club put on an annual assembly. In our Phoenix production, we had some real live chickens dragged across the stage at various times. The show ended with Laurence Burton and me standing with raised shotguns and suddenly spotting the chickens directly overhead of the Excelsior Club members, who traditionally sat in the front row. We blasted them with our shotguns (blank shells, of course), and six dead chickens fell down together with a bushel of feathers. Dean, Jerry, Glen, and all of you guys were hit with a mass of seven-day-old chickens we got from Utah Poultry. Excelsior got its revenge later, but I want to tell you a funny story in that regard. Fifteen years later I was asked to emcee a homecoming assembly in the old Moench Building, and I told the same story, but Excelsior was no longer sitting on the front row. As I got to the punch line, so help me, fluttering down from the light panel over the front row where Excelsior used to sit came one lone feather. People said "You must have planned that," but I said that was just intervention. In those great days, we had a homecoming parade in downtown Ogden. Laurence Burton and I and a carload of guys were driving down in Laurence's dad's new Hudson to start the parade. We were following Excelsior. We didn't have floats in those days, but Excelsior was driving a truck. I remember that Carlos Martindale, Glen, Dean Dailey, and other Excel guys were in the back of the truck. All I can remember is that we were following each other when Police Chief Shaw pulled up along side and said, "What the hell are you guys doing? What do you think is going on? You can't do this! You can't have a parade -you'll stop the traffic!" He was going to pieces over a bunch of college students who were trying to have a parade downtown but didn't have permission. Well, Laurence was distracted, looking over at Officer Shaw, and we crashed right into the back of the Excelsior's truck which had stopped ahead of us. Carlos went flying off the truck, and the whole front of Laurence's dad's car was smashed in. The police chief just looked at Laurence with a grin and drove off up the street. Do you remember when Phoenix serenaded Ruth Dixon as the AWS "friendliest girl?" We started out with "Girl of My Dreams": "Girl of My Dreams, I love you,/Honest I do,/ You are so sweet,/ If I could just hold your charms,/ Again in my arms,/ Then life would be complete." Well, we got about that far when Mel Thayne, who had been dating Ruth, started to laugh. Right behind him, Ralph Powell started to laugh. Then everyone broke up into a terrible cacophony of mirth, and the girls began to laugh. Ruth was absolutely shattered, and Marva Gregory and Mae Welling didn't speak to us the rest of the year. During this same year, we had one sad occasion when at a football game the goal posts were torn down and Bob Hansen was struck on the head and killed. We started the Hansen Memorial Smoker as a tribute. There are many Ila Jean Stuart, Diane Hunsaker and Dean Hurst 118 fun stories to tell about the smoker. I don't know if it was Rulon or Laurence who was supposed to fight, but Laurence stood up and indicated that he was a lover, not a fighter. Our Sophomore year of '48 was highlighted again by the Flaming W Hike with Orson Whitney Young serenading us on the guitar. We brought out the "Varsity Vignettes" again, and Jerry Green, Don Jones, and Jay Jenson stole the show. Their routine was Spike Jones's "Tea for Two." We dusted off the old song and dance act, and brought in Dale Blackburn to help with "Mandy." Otyokwa put on a great Sadie Hawkins Day. Alpha Rho did "The Best Dressed Coed." Iota Tau Kappa did a "Spring Fling" that was fun. Nancy and Megan, that was your group. LD had its beautiful Easter breakfast. Phoenix organized "Operation PhFF," an intentionally confusing acronym for "Phoenix Foothill Frolic." We left the dance early and, without telling our dates, headed for the foothills, causing much consternation. Laurel Checketts and I were dating. Some rascal went around and took pictures of all of us. We were caught in a little bit of a state of emotional anxiety. When the yearbook came out, there was a picture of Laurel and me in a close embrace. Someone asked Laurel about it, and she said, "Well, it wasn't as good as it looked!" Excelsior had its Sweetheart Ball, and Sigma had its swimsuit contest. Skull had the Barn Dance and the "Shooting of Dan McGrew." Sharmea had great athletic prowess. Tiki Kapa Kapa had its Candyland Dance - a beautiful dance. And we had another outstanding program from Chanodo, and lla Jean Stuart, who was president that year, had something happen to her, an impromptu strip tease. Vikings, in the company of Sharmea, held a dance called "The Highland Fling" with a prize to the man in the audience who had the least money in his pocket. Hy Sander won that flat down. We had a great group in the Whip Club, and Lamba Delta Sigma added a lot to the school year. We had many guilds and honorary groups. We closed that year with the play The Male Animal starring J.R. Allred. Co-starring with him were Jane Ann Slater, Phyllis Parker, Bob Daniels, and Spike Larsen. We also produced one of the greatest musicals that I have ever seen at Weber, The Desert Song. It had a cast of hundreds. The whole student body seemed to be involved in that. It was a great production and so successful it was held over for extra performances. We also had an outstanding year in forensics. Clyde Parker did extemporaneous speaking with Laurence Burton, Jane Ann Slater, Haynes Fuller, Winn Richards, Dick Nilsson, Dee Ward Hock, Marianna Lee, and Betty Hammond, who all excelled in debate. Laurence Burton and Dee Ward Hock were national winners in the Phi Rho Pi debate contest. Not enough can be said for Leland Monson, a great teacher and great coach. I am going to digress here just a minute and tell you a serious story about Leland Monson. Leland Monson, as you know, was the epitome of conser- vatism. The world was a very strange place outside of his own moral persuasion. On one occasion, Clyde and Laurence and the group accompanied Leland on a trip and ended up in Las Vegas, Nevada, where they decided to take in a show. It was just what you would expect to see in Las Vegas. It was a showgirl show. It was a topless, bottomless type thing, and Clyde and Laurence were suddenly aware that they had exposed Leland to something foreign to his nature. So, at intermission, they said to him, "Leland, we are sorry. We didn't know it was going to be that type of a show." Leland Monson responded, "Clyde, I can't believe my eyes. I never knew that such filth existed. But as long as we have been exposed this much, we might as well remain for the whole disgusting spectacle." On one occasion at Rotary, I told that story when Leland was in attendance, so I can tell it now without fear of some type of celestial retribution when he confronts me with that story. Behind that experience, we all knew that Leland had a great sense of humor and could have a joke told on him without being offended. Well, folks, we have seen great changes. The old Moench Building, which was so familiar to us and the scene of many of the memories we have talked about, is gone. The old haunts and hangouts have disappeared. Our old shopping places - Ro Lan's, B and B, L. R. Samuels, Fred M. Nye's, Levin's, Watson-Tanner's - all gone. The dens of iniquity, like the Penthouse and the Pit, under the old Colonial Theater, are gone. The Canton Cafe, Kay's Noodle Parlor, Ma's and Pa's in Roy, Ross and Jack's - they're all gone. The old Ogden Theater, the Paramount Theater, the Orpheum Theater are gone. But the Egyptian Theater was restored, thank goodness! The White City Ballroom and the Berthana, where we danced to Tommy Dorsey, Glenn Miller, Benny Goodman, Harry James, Count Basie, and a host of others, are gone. We got into the dances for a couple of bucks. Gosh, our grandkids are paying 50 dollars to see some group that you can't even dance to. We danced to tunes like "Moonlight Serenade," "Moonlight Cocktail," "String of Pearls," "Stardust," "Deep Purple," "In The Mood," "Chattanooga Choo Choo," "The One O'Clock Jump." Well, friends, we are the survivors. We are a little older, but a little better. From our ranks have come great teachers, lawyers, artists, politicians, philosophers, economists, service men and women, business men and women of great stature. Our numbers have been thinned. Let's wind up this party with "The Way We Were": "Memories, light the corners of your mind,/ Misty water-colored memories,/ Of the way we were. /Can it be that it was all so simple then,/ Or has time re-written every line?/ If we had the chance to do it all again,/ Would we, could we?" Memories can be beautiful, yet they are sometimes painful. We had some lost loves, and bad times as well as good. We simply choose to forget them. We'll remember the good times. We remember those days at Weber, whenever we remember the way we were. 119