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THE GOOD OLD DAYS

The Mail

NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED

To the Editors of the CRIMSON:

It brought tears to my eyes to see myself referred to in your writeup of the last Faculty meeting as George Wald '16.

Ah, yes, that was the year I graduated from the sixth grade at P.S. 124--which was as far as that school went-- to the seventh grade at P.S. 40, two blocks further away along Fourth Avenue in Brooklyn. It was a big thing and I had looked forward to it for years. It was my first Commencement.

Our sixth-grade teacher at P.S. 124 had been a robust baritone named Miss Kegan. That first day at P.S. 40 they gave us the afternoon off. The first thing we did was line up on the sidewalk across from P.S. 124, chanting "Mary Ann Kegan" up at the windows in an outburst of affectionate disrespect.

When we got tired of that, a few of us set out together for Prospect Park, elated at being free at that strange hour. It was the first time just that group had been together out of school, and a lot of things happened. Two of the older boys, after staggering around with laughter at my ignorance, let me in on where babies come from, but I didn't believe it. After awhile we agreed to become a Biology Club, not through any interest in biology, though my brother, a character at DeWitt Clinton High School, had told me what it meant, but because being a Biology Club opened the delightful prospect of carving the date on a park bench followed by the letters B.C., to confound future archaeologists.

It was a wonderful day. We never met again, but that didn't matter. I learned years later that that's the best kind of club.

Ah yes! You bring it all back as though it were yesterday. It was nice of you to look it up, and I am grateful. George Wald '16   Professor of Biology

The CRIMSON apologizes to Professor Wald N.Y.U. '27, and also to H. Stuart Hughes, Amherst '37, who aged 13 years in the same article.

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