Lighter Side

Wrestling with issues ranging from funding needy student groups to combarting sexual and anti-gay harassment council members took themselves very seriously during of the year. But Harvard's first real and much vaunted student government was not without its moments.

Many of them were created by T. Logan Evans'85 council member during the fall. Declaring that he believed "in a unification of the planet with in the U.S. system" in his "Theory of the Cosmopolis," Evans sought the council's chairman-ship proposing massive weekly trivia quizzes in Harvard Yard and town meetings in Sanders Theater, Brian L. Melendez '86, the council's vice-chairman, believes Evans saw the council as the "stepping stone to world domination."

Dizzying power trips by some council members provided good deal of amusement representatives recall. Says aptly named representative Clark J. Freshman '86. "The council is sort of a spectator sport." He describes the council as a group of students "who are all running for the presidency. I don't know whether they're limiting themselves... even dictator or emperor?"

Christine A. Reuther '84 calls the council a group of little Machiavellian minds...20 percent of which are hard-core power fiends." "I'm personally going for the Supreme Court," she says. "I've learned to be very judicious."

All the lighter moments were not generated by political ambition, however. A late April council resolution allocated 20 cents to Princeton University's Dean of Admissions James W. Wickenden. The funds were aimed to cover the prick of a postage stamp because council members had heard that the dean had travelled to Florida to deliver the verdict of admission personally to model/actress Bookie shields.

In addition, there were some peculiarities which only the most devoted council members was able to appreciate. The council's office, burred in the basement of Canday Hall, was maintained by a scrupulous office manager, Stan S. Butler. The chalkboard was always washed, and notices on the bulletin board were always squarely lined up and pinned with four tacks each. Butler also apparently labelled everything "OFFICE COPY." Including one participant recalls, a single matchbook deep in a musty file drawer.