(Ed. Note--The Crimson does not necessarliy endorse opinions expressed in printed communications. No attention will be paid to anonymous letters and only under special conditions at the request of the writer will names be withheld.)
To the Editor of the CRIMSON:
June is with us, and at this season the heart of youth appropriately turns to thoughts of graduation, reunions and anniversaries. But while we celebrate the names of present great, or future great, must we forget one who, through his name has never, to my knowledge, headed a Commencement program, has none the less in his humble way played as important and as unforgetable a part in our carefree college years as many of more worthy note. He first, when timid freshmen, bid us a kindly welcome, and now, as we depart, adds softly a good wish for our success. Fellow students, June eighth is Max Keezer's birthday. He will be sixty-two. "I'm getting old, you know," says Max. He may be getting on, but not so old, we feel, that he will not enjoy many more years in which to greet the incoming Freshmen with, "Got any old clothes for Max Keezer, boys? Don't forget Max Keezer, just up Mass. Ave." F. B. Thurber, '30.
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THE SCHOOL OF GEOGRAPHY
