A l^-pound Freshman Orientation Kit and the first letter from home Welcome to Cam p Sw arthm ore “My biggest piece of advice is to have fun this week and make the most of this tremendous opportunity before classes start.” This advice from Sophomore Bob Kuske was the first of many pieces of friendly advice Katherine Harper ’77 was to hear on her first day at Swarthmore. Kathie’s first day as a freshman began shortly after midnight when she boarded the plane to Philadelphia from her hometown of Tempe, Arizona. It was more than 24 hours later before Kathie got to bed in her new home in Wharton. In those 24-plus hours Kathie began the four-day process of getting oriented to her new life. A 77-man freshman orientation committee, composed mostly of sophomores, 1 had been working since last spring to plan activities that would give Kathie and her 342 classmates (the largest freshman class in | the College’s history) a helpful introduction | to the campus and to each other. They met them at the airport and train I station and manned the registration tables ini Parrish, where freshmen picked up a packet I literature they had assembled and their room key. They directed freshmen to their dormitories and helped them with luggage. They gave a tea for freshmen and their parents so they would have a chance to meet President Friend, also beginning his freshm year. Later President Friend addressed the freshman class in the Meeting House and th freshmen returned to their dorms for hall meetings with the upperclass resident assistants. The day ended with roving dorm parties which finally converged on Commonsj at 11 P.M. for beer and dancing and conversation. The next days were even fuller: advanced1 placement tests in languages, English literature, chemistry and biology; a swimmi test, conferences with faculty advisers, meetings with the deans, a game of Capture the Flag played with 300 squirt guns, a barbecue with faculty, a bonfire in the Cruffij' a square dance, a late night swim. Camp Swarthmore, as people have dubbed Fresh Orientation, was in full swing and the Class ’77 was prepped for the first day of classes. I On her first day, Kathie found her mailbox, unpacked, made friends, and looked up Admissions Officer Barbara Pearson Lange ’31, who was instrumental m setting up the new Rocky Mountain Scholarship which Kathie won. Photographs by James Purring Camp Swarthmore Kathie listens attentively to President Friend, whom she’d met at the Freshman tea, address the Class of ’77 in the Meeting House. On Sharpies patio she and roommates sort out the day’s advice, including “Down East Smoggy Air and Dirty Crum Creek Blues a pseudo­ subversive alternative to your freshman orientation handbook, published by The Committee to make Togetherness Omnipresent (CoTomato). 2 SWARTHMORE ALUMNl*r0BER Kathie and two of her three roommates hear Residen Assistant Cabot Christianson ’75 tell freshmen in his coed section of Wharton to lock their doors, be careful with candles, don’t put their beds on the floor, be sensitive to those around them, and to knock on his door any time with any problems. At freshmar dorm party, Kathie has fun and forgets her worry that she “ won’t be able to cut the academics.” H | glfil WbSLjl. ' * JH ; -H sssi 1 M l ft -m The Swarthmore College Bulletin, of which this publication is Volume LXXI, No. 2, is published in September, October, March, May, July, and twice in December and January by Swarthmore College, Swarthmore, Pennsylvania 19081 ¡Qjlff’OBER, 1973 For Louis Lupin ’77, a McCabe Delmarva Scholar from Claymont, Delaware, Freshman Orientation was different. Lou arrived on Camp Swarthmore campus the day after Labor Day to play football. By the time his classmates arrived, Football players have Lou said, “I more or less felt I was already their own special orientation oriented.” The only event he went to the first day of orientation was the Parrish party and only then because another football player dragged him. He went home early. There was little time for Lou, an enthusiastic jazz musician, to keep up with his routine of daily bass practice and his lessons had to be postponed until classes started. “I was too tired. Pre-season practice was pretty tough in terms of conditioning and the double sessions were exhausting, even though I had been in good shape from lifting weights all summer and running two miles a day since August 1.” Coach Millard Robinson conducted his own form of orientation over the summer with all his players, writing to the men and getting in touch with many returning lettermen personally. “I really liked all the football mailings,” says Lou. “It was cheering to know he cared that much.” Ü, m WÊÊ K ? f êÊBm 1 1 I* I â After a full day sharpening his skills as defensive linebacker, Lou Lupin relaxes with another football player and classmate, Mike Ehrhardt. SWARTHMORE ALUMNI W CTa S How an “I” battled a faceless “they” to rid the Potomac of the CIA’s unique form of industrial waste BY JOHN SEABURY THOMSON ’43 I canoe to work. experiences of life in Washington: the lation explosion and big government Each morning, except when the Sycamore Island Canoe Club, the have overtaken the area, and Pulp Potomac is ice-bound or in flood, Canoe Cruisers Association, and all Run’s drainage basin has been vastly either alone or with one or two friends, the pleasures of white water canoeing. changed, although the Potomac Pali­ I park my car on MacArthur Boule­ It also provided the foundation for the sades through which it cuts remain vard, hike across two footbridges and Top Secret Slurry Caper. largely untouched. It is second-growth down a zig-zag path to the river bank, “Pulp Run” is a small year-round woodland: sycamore, hickory, persim­ take the rope-drawn ferry to Sycamore streamlet, unnamed on local maps, mon and pawpaw, together with the Island, launch my canoe on the quiet which winds through the northern Vir­ fallen hulks of old chestnut scattered aters of the Potomac and paddle ginia countryside and across the old along its slopes. The Leiter mansion cross to the Virginia shore. Once Leiter estate to enter the Potomac is gone, destroyed by fire, and the [there, I chain the canoe to a tree, hide River between Turkey Run and Little George Washington Memorial Park­ he paddles, and hike up through the Falls Rapids. The ruin of an old sum­ way runs along the crest of the pali­ SjSwoods, along the George Washington mer cottage—a fine old stone chimney sade, bridging Pulp Run with a cul­ '^■Memorial Parkway and into the north —stands on its western shore and the vert. Back farther from the river, the I jgate of the Central Intelligence now-abandoned National Capital Park massive Central Intelligence Agency l Agency’s grounds. In the evening I re- Trails #1 and # 2 cross its mouth. In headquarters building sits firmly J^erse the pattern. the 1930’s the water from this stream, astride the Pulp Run valley and, once All year around, canoeing is far and the spring at its source, was so again, Pulp Run follows its natural Superior to all other means of com­ pure that Sycamore Islanders used to course some thirty to fifty feet below uting—there are no problems of paddle or row across the river to bring the new ground level. As has always kidding in the snow storms and in back with them jugs full for their been the case, Pulp Run carries the [times of high water we merely use the drinking water. runoff from the rains and serves as the eddies and backwaters behind Ruperts Modernization, progress, the popu­ local storm sewer. The reshaping of sland to make our way up the land contours and the tream before heading out and large-scale paving operations errying across the flood to the which accompanied the build­ irginia shore. We often won- ing process sharply changed the er what the traffic helicopters run-off patterns, bringing heav­ bverhead think of us—but find ier water flows after each storm the wildlife, birds and flowers and increased erosion but, by- far more interesting and attrac­ and-large, the visual quality of tive. Unpredicted windstorms the water was remarkably un­ —and high waves on the Po­ changed. It remained cool, fresh tomac—have given us pause, and transparent—a lovely nat­ 3ut nothing can undercut the ural stream of water. satisfaction the canoe pool has Apparent catastrophe struck provided. Pulp Rim in the 1960’s, when, Canoeing to work has opened in a move which reduced air ^P the way to some of the best pollution and allowed for the I igpCTOBER, 1973 5 “I canoe to work. Each morning with one or two friends, I park my car on MacArthur Boulevard, hike across two footbridges and down a zig-zag path to the river bank, take the rope-drawn ferry to Sycamore Island, launch my canoe on the quiet waters of the Potomac, and paddle across to the Virginia shore. Once there, I chain the canoe to a tree, hide the paddles, and hike up through the woods, along the George Washington Memorial Parkway, and into the north gate of the Central Intelligence Agency’s grounds. In the evening I reverse the pattern.” Photographs by Walter Behr. 6 ¡recycling of paper products, the CIA however, was struggling with the pro­ regained the degree of patience needed. switched from burning its classified cedural problems of a large organiza­ Patience was rewarded.