When I was at the University of Washington circa early Fifties, I didn't live in the men's dorms, but I knew a lot of guys who did. The men's dorms where not on Campus Parkway as they are now, they were clapboard barracks-like buildings on campus. The rooms were small, usually occupied by two guys—bunk beds, small study desks, and a bureau each. Everybody share one Big John.

A friend of mine who lived in the dorms owned a Crosley Hotshot . The advantages of the car were that it was a sports car, it was cute, and it was cheap transportation. A disadvantage was that it was kinda tinny, and small and light enough so three or four fairly muscular goons could pick it up and carry it. Very frequently my friend would go out to the designated parking place and the Hotshot wouldn't be there. It was usually somewhere nearby, because although it was light, it wasn't that light. Often he would find it sitting up the front steps of a nearby building. On one occasion, he stumbled out of his dorm room to go to class, and there was the Hotshot, parked in the hallway and blocking his door. Good gag maybe, but it got real old real quick.

About the same time, a large cardboard box appeared one morning over the top of the flagpole on what is now Red Square. It took them a couple of days to figure out how to get it down, and I don't think they ever figured out how it got up there.

Also about that same time . . . there's a statue of George Washington that stands on the west side of campus. One night someone painted it bright green and hung a "Keep Washington Green" sign (a sign often seen beside highways) around his neck.

Professor Meldon taught Philosophy 100, among many other courses. One week he covered various philosophers who had their doubts about cause-and-effect, the consistency of reality, etc, laying out all of the arguments in a very persuasive manner. On Friday, he critiqued all the viewpoints and basically left the students with no sure answers, but much to ponder. At the end of the lecture, Prof. Meldon said, "Now I've walked through that door" (indicating the door to the left of the lectern) "hundreds of times, and each time I have emerged in the hall outside. But there is no real assurance that sometime I might step through that door and fall into a pit of crocodiles." At that moment, the bell rang. We picked up our books and got ready to leave as Prof. Meldon picked up his lecture notes and stepped through the door. Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream rang out! We all froze! Several seconds later, Professor Meldon's grinning face appeared through the door. "Think about it," he said. "See you all Monday. Perhaps."

Don Firth