description:
Pa e Two SKYSCRAPER THE SKYSCRAPER Official Semi-Monthly Newspaper of MUNDELEIN COLLEGE 6363 Sheridan Road Chicago, Illinois Mundelein Chicago's College For Women Under the Direction of the Sisters of Charity, B.V.M. Entered as Second Class Matter Nov. 30, 1932, at the Post Office of Chicago, Illinois, under the Act of March 3, 1879. 1.75 the year. Published semi-monthly from October to May inclusive by the students of Mundelein College. VOL. VIII May 18, 1938 No. 13 1937 Member 1938 Fbsocided CbUe6icite Press ALL-CATHOLIC HONORS Telephone: Briarfeate 3800 FRESHMAN STAFF Editor-in-Chief Marguerite Kelly- Editorial Board: Mary Caroline Bemis, Ruth Mary Camber, Frances Carey, Mary Eliza beth O'Brien, Adele Parrish. Features : Marguerite Kenny, Eileen Mahoney, Mildred Mahoney, Virginia McGurk, Mary- Jane Quintan. News : Mary Margaret O'Flaherty, Amy Mil ler, Jane Bernstein, Jane Rohol, Bette Diltz, Jean Spanuth, Peggy Meade, Ellen Jane Fitzgibbons, Betty Podulka, Margaret Mary Kreusch, Eleanor O'Brien, Janet McCarty, Gertrude Mulderick. For Our Dads - Three Rousing Cheers HERE'S never a staff meeting during May at which the members do not and rightly agree to write tributes to Mothers. But the staff is out acquiring a sun tan on the beach when Father's Day comes around. In consequence, we, the freshman staff, have determined that this year our Dads will not lie slighted. We're going to re serve this space for them. For our Dads Three Rousing Cheers For our Dads who finance our shop ping tours, who lend us the keys to the car when the tank is full, who take care of the fenders we dent, who settle with the police when we park in front of fire hydrants, who advance our allowances when depressions and recessions engulf us For our Dads Three Rousing Cheers For our Dads, who stood by us in grammar school griefs, who laughed at us during high school worries, sympa thized with us in disappointments, en couraged us in success, shared our plans with enthusiasm and sent us to Munde lein For our Dads Three Rousing Cheers Thanks for the Memories i, Georgia Jean Thinks of Commencement COR the first time in about four months Georgia Jean had nothing to do nothing urgent, that is. She wandered casually down the second-floor corridor, idly admiring the Italian watercolors, the trinkets on her charm bracelet jingling cheerfully with every step she took. She paused to scrutinize the newest gadget leave it to Mary Lou to provide tiny silver pipe organs. She could hear one now; it must be I'rofessor Flandorf opening his Friday recital with a thrilling and familiar martial number. She might as well go and see. But it's not Friday, Georgia Jean re flected, after genuflecting at the Chapel entrance. If it were Friday she would be cramming for a French test. The or gan notes marched on, and Georgia Jean marched into the auditorium balcony, just as two long lines of capped-and-gowned seniors came slowly down the center ais les toward the stage. Commencement rehearsal, she thought how incredibly grave they looked It wasn't ten minutes since she had seen a group of them chattering about Senior Ball bids down in the student lounge. As they advanced to the stage, she picked out the ones she would miss most when next year came and Class '38 was gone. The tall dark girl whose poise she had always admired at Council meetings. The girl with the sunny smile what was her name? who had helped Georgia Jean in those first awful days of math. The music faded away, and from the rear of the auditorium someone began to intone the class roll. What on earth thought Georgia Jean but, of course, they were shifting their mortarboard tas sels as their names were called symbolic of graduation. It was tremendously thrilling, some how, and a little sad. Most of these girls who had been so casually close to her during the past year would go completely out of her life after Commencement. They would, as the lecturer had said yes terday, take their places as Catholic leaders graduates of a Catholic college. She watched the last row of seniors shift the tassels and heard the organ sound the stirring music of recessional. Graduates of a Catholic college Catholic leaders Georgia Jean looked down at the grave faces below her. They looked confident and capable. The gentle look- ing girl iii the front row, for instance, was ready to step into a position as a commercial artist for a loop concern. Near her was a history major, going on to a university for graduate work; a science major who planned to begin her career as a laboratory technician; some of them had been practice teaching all year and would go on with that; some of them would be married within a few months. Georgia Jean felt they were equipped for success not for spectacular careers, most of them, but for the kind of success that results from lives religiously moti vated, intelligently directed, and gener ously lived. That was it they had some thing to live by, to believe in, to work for An insistent bell brought Georgia. Jean out of her reverie. In just three minutes the cream-colored roadster would draw up at the curb. She filled her eyes once more with the beauty of the procession, her ears with the surge of the music, her heart with the serenity of her meditation; turned abruptly into the corridor, and smiled at the jingling of her charm brace let as the elevator door closed behind her. IF you read the editorials last of all, you have guessed by now what we are trying to say in this Freshman Edition. We feel, nevertheless, that we should make our message more articulate; that, in view of the multitude of glorious mem ories we have of this past year at Munde lein, wc should come right out and say: Thanks for the Memories * * * Of dancing at the Drake... We shall always feel a Christmasy glow when we remember the Skyscraper Ball our first Mundelein formal. Christmas also recalls the memory of that breath-taking ceremony, Candlelighting. We sang the old traditional carols with a new spirit fostered by the realization that our college would be transformed that night into a glowing cross of candle light to symbolize the coming of the Christ Child . . . Thanks for the Memories * * * Of study by the lake ... And on the bus, the street car, and the L . With term papers, book re ports, and quarterly exams all piling on top of each other, we learned that college days mean days of study, rush, worry, and achievement. Through some inex plicable miracle, we managed to hand in term papers on the day they were due, to make book reports sound convincing, however deep we may have found the reading, and to save ourselves from par ental wrath by just making a C in botany. Thanks for the Memories I felt so sad because you had The tricks I didn't take... The card party at the Stevens We were proud of ourselves that night, and of our college. Our parents proclaimed the fashion revue the loveliest ever, and marveled that their own little Peggy could have had a hand in such a huge and successful undertaking. We were proud too when we entertained our mo thers at tea, and showed them the class rooms in which we groaned over French exams or solved current world problems. These are only a few of the cherished little fragments that cling to our mem ories these and the frantic dash for the elevator at 2 minutes to 9 in the morning the tea-dance with Loyola students as guests that we entered so hesitantly and left feeling like belles the Terrapin car nival that erased from our minds the less pleasant thoughts of our fright ening first dives into the pool these and ever so many more. If we were to start enumerating them from the very begin ning of the year, we would ramble on for hours. But don't run. We'll keep the rest to ourselves, tucked way down in our hearts, to be taken out only when a song, or a dress, or some little happening brings them poignantly to mind. And until then, we say once more to the Faculty, to the upperclassmen, to our parents Thank you so much. yj luinnunaiiBi EUiiinnuiiiiiiu nui iuiisiiiui i i.iiiiiiu i tuuiuiuiHBiiiiBfiiiiiniiiiiHBB uu Lit uiiiiiiiiiii uuiii i uu:tiaiinniL muuiiif u JiiuiiK i;uii m mnauiiimi i: i 11: mi 11 ii: iiiimuiiEU iiiQii utuuinjiuujiiiiuiimi rmanniiiiiiEiLiiiiiiiiiiituiau u u IHei gh'Ho , Heigh-Ho I mmffliiM Witty friend, looking through window at dist ant lake-front skyline, Seems to me it's high enough now. Heigh-Ho, Heigh-Ho, It's off to work we go HEIGH-HO Reversing ordinary procedure since this is not an ordinary column we put our epitaph at the beginning: .1 fresh little freshie, in her fresh little way, A column took over, for fun, one day. Notv the fresh little grassic docs tenderly wave O'er the fresh little freshie's fresh little grave. HF.icn-HO OUR HIT PARADE I Can Dream Can't I? the freshman telling her friends of a straight A card she is going to bring home in June. You Appeal to Me that same straight A card. You Leave Me Breathless the 8:59y lt; rush to Spanish three mornings each week. Gone With the Wind those scattered curls after we round the west-door curve. The Desert Song pre-dinncrtime conversa tion: Well, what is it tonight ice-cream or cake? HEIGH-HO A sophomore and her father were gathered around the radio doing homework and listening to a baseball game. The winning pitcher, intoned the announcer, was French, the loser was Shott. Why did they shoot him, Dad? asked the sophomore, turning the page of her trigonometry text. HEIGH-HO Suggested final examination question: If gold is where you find it, where is Silver? Suggested answer: With the Lone Ranger. heigh-ho Freshman columnist, looking in sixth-floor laboratory for a witty friend: Do you know anything funny? I need 5 more inches for the Skyline. HEIGH-HO Anent the Father's Day story somewhere else on this page, we have been chuckling ever since September over a remark we heard a freshman make to her interested father, who accompanied her to registration. The Faculty Counsellor explained that the freshie might take botany, zoology, biology, or chemistry. It's immaterial to me, remarked the docile freshman. Which will be easiest for you, Dad? HEICH-HO A senior parked in the corner of our exclu sively freshman press room remarks that she thinks Henry Ford ought to be president. Why? Because he has the makings of a Lincoln. HEIGH-HO Flash : Duke Eats Napoleon Historians All Agog Late last Sunday evening, Duke, small dog belonging to Mary Ruth Venn, consumed all but the title page and the back cover of Napoleon, by Hilaire Belloc. Flash: Dog Owner Pays Library Fine Has No Monday Book Report. HEIGH-HO And we fade out on the story of the home economics student who took an 8 o'clock type writing class as an extra. Arriving at 10 to 8 one morning, she found her machine without a ribbon. Sister, she asked, with the competent air of the home economist, will you please teach me how to thread this machine? HEIGH-HO Heigh-Ho, Heigh-Ho, It's home from work we go
title:
1938-05-18 (2)
publisher:
Women and Leadership Archives http://www.luc.edu/wla
creator:
Mundelein College
description:
Student newspaper for Mundelein College
subject:
Newspapers
subject:
Religious communities--Sisters of Charity of the Blessed Virgin Mary
subject:
Students
subject:
Universities and colleges
subject:
Women's education
relation:
Mundelein College Records
type:
Text
language:
English
rights:
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coverage:
Chicago, Illinois
coverage:
Mundelein College