Airs Academic Sanctity

FROM experience, Dr. Dexter Merriam Keezer, president of Reed College (Portland, Ore.) has learned that heavy academic robes are stifling. Amherst A. B., Cornell M. A., Brookings Institute Ph. D., Dr. Keezer taught variously and brilliantly at Dartmouth, Cornell, and the Universities of California and North Carolina, but he was a fish that leapt occasionally from the dry bank into the stream to get into the swim of things again. He worked on the Denver Times and edited the Baltimore Sun, Reed College found him a year ago working on the NRA Consumers' Advisory Board.

At Reed there are no intercollegiate athletics, no fraternities, and student self-government is important. The intellectual freedom Reed attempts readily persuades some august citizens of Portland that Reed is a bed of radicalism. President Keezer is known to have worn bright red duck pants on the campus, but to the calmer observer the president seems merely to be airing out academic sanctity. He prods bookworms into skiing trips, but makes no effort to attract or hold playboys to Reed.

Loudspeaker Solace

FOUR years ago the Voice of Experience began, accents somewhat harsh, to dole out solace to believers in loudspeaker comfort. Today The Voice an audience of millions, and it is generally known that their adviser is Marion Sayle Taylor. Mr. Taylor an LL.D., made so a year ago by William Jewell College (Liberty, Mo.) on a June day proclaimed Liberty's mayor as "Voice of Experience Day." For three years The Voice studied at William Jewell, he took his A. B. at Pacific University in 1911.

Anent "experience," Dr. Taylor looks back along 47 years on a poverty stricken youth, postgraduate work at Oregon Agricultural College and the University of Oregon, the accident which crushed his hands and ruined his hope of becoming a professional organist, a superintendency of schools in Oregon, and nation-wide wandering as a Chautauqua lecturer. Out of this he has the formula for successfully throwing oil on trouble human waters. Remembering his youth, he gives organized charity the sizeable contributions he receives from well-wishers.

Anent "experience," Dr. Taylor looks back along 47 years on a poverty stricken youth, postgraduate work at Oregon Agricultural College and the University of Oregon, the accident which crushed his hands and ruined his hope of becoming a professional organist, a superintendency of schools in Oregon, and nation-wide wandering as a Chautauqua lecturer. Out of this he has the formula for successfully throwing oil on trouble human waters. Remembering his youth, he gives organized charity the sizeable contributions he receives from well-wishers.