VOL. XV, NO. 14

My first thought when I was asked to write an article for the Westerner was "Nobody will read it." Soon, however, I realized that the article would be read. Everyone reads the Westerner. If they failed to, they wouldn't be able to criticize it as much as they do.

My second thought was "What am I going to write about?" I read all of Brock Akers' articles from previous issues of the paper, but I'm afraid that they did not inspire me enough. Besides, I don't want to provoke any letters to the editor. I could write about Student Council but, as any Council member will agree, I have already said enough about Student Council to fill one volume of the Encyclopedia Britannica, and I have little desire to say any more. Finally, I could write about the job situation in Europe, but I understand that some anonymous writer already did this year, making those who believed that the paper should stick to school business angry. As I realized that graduation was a time to look back as well as look forward, I finally decided to tell the world about what I will miss most when I finally leave these "hallowed halls."

Since the college which I will attend has banned automobiles from the campus, I will no longer be able to walk half a mile each morning from my car to the school as I do now, plodding through C‑wing lot. The parking lot is an exciting place. If you can climb over the 20‑foot drifts in the middle during the winter, you only have to avoid drivers doing "donuts" in the middle of the lot. C‑wing lot is also the domain of our security patrol officers, for whom ordinary words do not suffice.

I will also miss the morning announcements. One of my great surprises during the year came when I found out that Mr. Graef was actually human and not merely a tape recorded voice. As assistant principal in charge of staff, he faces quite a challenge in trying to make himself known to the students.

WMTH members did make themselves known, even though the P.A. system only worked in half of the school. "Wishing you and yours a very pleasant day." This phrase kept me going when times became hard.

I probably will remember faculty and administration members well when my hair turns grey. How can I forget Mr. Goerne's ties? Mr. Porter's unique Southern Illinois expressions? Mr. Burk's nervous smile whenever Student Council proposed anything radical? Dr. Ladd's stories about his motorcycle? Mr. Barnes' wit and wisdom?

When I start to think about the crazy people from the Senior Class, I can only shake my head and smile. The Senior Class is unique, for we came in during one era, but are going out in another. When we arrived, students were rebelling across the country as Graham Nash sang, telling us that "we can change the world." Four years later, our world has quieted down and must somberly consider the future with shortages of every kind and governmental corruption hanging over our heads. Luckily, the Senior Class can go into the world with idealism of the late sixties as well as the knowledge of what we are up against that comes from today's news stories.

I have no doubts that the seniors who will soon be leaving Maine West will do a very respectable job in facing our problems. Unfortunately, I doubt that I will ever see many of them again. Going to college in Minnesota has its disadvantages.

If I ever get lonely, however, I can always send a form letter to University of Illinois students. It seems sometimes that two out of every three students is from Maine West.

For next year's seniors I can offer one final statement: we leave you with a perfect school - don't mess it up.