I Hope He Knows Althea Andelin Roberts '45 Come to think of it, didn't see him hanging around whenever the other kids were collected in the halls, but I'm certain he was there. We didn't ever speak to him but many times spoke of him. I wonder about him now that the old campus is dwindling in decay. It was common knowledge that he hung out there in the West Central Building. Not many of our classes were held in that old part of the building. The unlocked but foreboding doors at the end of the hall in the West Central Building left the imagination popping except when the naval cadets frequented it for an occasional class. Later on, Cluster Nilsson taught English there, and on Thursday Lydia Tanner held her lab, in which she taught us about motherhood and what we were really trying to accomplish in cooking. That cooking class supplied the cafeteria with the noon meal. Mrs. Tanner was a genius because she had to use the war ration stamps and make it all work out. We each took a recipe when we entered the room and proceeded to create whatever was printed on the card. It might be mashed potatoes, gravy, carrot pudding with yummy brown sugar and cream sauce or lemon pie. The cafeteria had glorious smells of roast beef and spicy puddings. No wonder he liked to hang around that end of the school. We almost met him one evening when Chanodo held a party there. No one gave us a bad time about using the building. We held our party upstairs, and as we looked down the central wooden staircase, cleaned earlier that day by sawdust brooms, we felt a spooky trespassing feeling and didn't want to venture down the dark steps. He surely had placed his hand upon that railing and was probably watching from wherever he was. I don't know the ghost's name or why he was there. But we all knew he was there. I suppose he was just a page out of the past and liked the clanging of the lockers and the noise of jostling kids. Maybe he had learned about life in those halls and couldn't bear to leave when life was through. I was told he frequents the West Central Building even now. How lonely it must be for him with only office sounds and without the locker noises, students talking about assignments or games or whatever bonfire activity is to be held. Now the talk is about computers, technology, women's rights, and about that mess in Texas. He wouldn't like the upper campus nearly so well. He must be getting pretty old now because he frequently turns the lights on at night. Quiet surrounds him, so he slams a door once in awhile to startle the workers there although he truly is a friendly ghost and must think about leaving when the West Central Building goes. There are no students holding hands in the halls now and no smells from the kitchen. I think of him with a sort of reverence because he was real. He was a bit somber, but I liked him. We all did. I hope he knows. Althea Andelin Roberts West Central Building 34 Debaters, Snipe Hunting, and War Bond Drives Shirley Cunnington Koberna '45 You will remember Dr. Leland H. Monson, who was head of the Humanities Department in 1945. He had a speech impediment as a result of a childhood disease. In true Demosthenes fashion he struggled until he became a most powerful and popular speaker. Therefore, his pride and joy was his debate teams. He set up meets at the various colleges throughout the state to debate the most current issue of the day, "Resolved: that the Allies should establish an International Police Force upon the defeat of the Axis." George Handy, Betty Lamoreaux, Lew Cook, and I traveled by train and bus to spend three days in St. George. We won a smashing victory over Dixie College debaters. Dr. Monson was so pleased that he rewarded us with a midnight snipe-hunting trip through the unlit streets surrounding the campus. Although we giggled, whistled, and sent out all kinds of signals throughout the blackened night, the snipes continued to avoid us. We never figured out why - but the memories will always be a treasure. President Henry Aldous Dixon was chairman of the war bond drive in Weber County. He recklessly offered to carry books for the student who sold the most bonds. I remember with some chagrin and embarrassment that he faithfully came to my home every morning for a week to carry my books to the campus - truly a man of his word. President Henry Aldous Dixon Open Doors Bonnie Decker Eldredge '45 When I arrived at Weber in 1943, I was worried because I didn't know anyone. But after the first day I felt at home. The students were all warm and friendly. They gave me so much advice about registering that I changed my major from business to science. On the surface that seems of little importance. To someone who graduated from a high school that had no chemistry class, it presented a challenge. With help from my fellow students, combined with Professor Gray's encouragement, the chemistry lab became a great learning experience. I often remember the voice of Dr. Leland Monson admonishing us to avoid cliches. Offenders were doomed to a special hell for "hacks." Many years later, when deleting cliches from the writings that crossed my desk at work, I frequently risked life, limb, and employment. With his words emblazoned on my shield, I attacked with zeal those trite phrases wherever they lurked - even when they were my own. Sometimes, when I finished marking out all the cliches, I wrote, there was very little left. That's the reason I'm not omitting them from this letter. I probably wouldn't have a complete paragraph remaining. This is not much to show for my two years at Weber. But I'm sure those years affected my life in subtle ways that I can never describe. For example, they opened doors that showed me how much there is to learn. And I have never stopped reading and trying to learn. Dr. Leland Monson 35