"... and that reminds me of a story..."

It was a meeting of the Business School's Graduating Class, and the speaker was Donald M. Wright, director of Alumni Activities. An announcement of the "Last Beer Bust" had lured some six hundred students, wives and/or dates to spacious Carey Cage, and they were all seated in wooden chairs before the podium.

Mr. Wright concluded his anecdote. There was a brief, controlled roar of approval.

"But to be serious. When we ask ourselves why we came to school here, we all answer. 'To learn to be successful.' And what are the concepts we must keep in mind?

"We get ahead through contracts. The contacts you've made here..."

The person seated in front of me wriggled in his seat. He turned to look at the person on his right, but found him staring intently at the speaker. He turned to the man on the left and smiled. This man smiled back.

Wright kept on. "And when we're out in the Business World, what do we want to know? We want to know, 'Am I in the old groove?' And how do we find out? Why we look at the records of our old classmates and see how they're doing. Are we standing still, or are we moving ahead? That's what we want to know, and that's how we find out. That's why the Alumni Association is important to us ..."

The man in front of me again looked from side to side. His brow was furrowed in deep concentration. He seemed worried.

There was applause when Wright finished and the next speaker was introduced: "Edward J. Hanley, president of the Alleghany-Ludlum Steel Corporation and head-elect of our Alumni Association."

Mr. Hanley started with a reference to the anecdote that Wright had delivered. He looked uneasy when there was no response, but then his face brightened: "I'm really not the president of a steel corporation, but an assistant to Charles Sawyer in the employ of the United States Government." A short interval of unrestrained laughter seemed to throw him back into high gear.

He settled down to the business of the day. "We've gotta use the Alumni Association to get acquainted," he said. "Lotsa times people ask me, where's the best place to live. Well, I say the best place to live is where you've got a good job. That's the best place to live. When you move into a town, through the Alumni Association you meet people who can do you good. They'll do you a lotta good, and you'll do them a lotta good. That's the Business School spirit."

Our man now sat up in his chair, confidently.

After briefly explaining that the Business School Alumni Association couldn't compete with the Old Alma Mater (because she could tug at your heart-strings), Mr. Hanley reminded his audience that the Business School Alumni Association was offering something else-contacts.

His speech ended with more applause, another talk followed, and then there was some singing. BY this time, students were flocking to the rear of the hall where there was beer and a place to join the Alumni Association.

The man in front of me got up from his seat and hailed a friend. There was the traditional greeting: a hefty slap on the back with the left hand and a vigorous handshake with the right.

"Whatcha think of the speeches?"

"Great stuff. That Hanley's a big man. Worked up from the bottom, y'know."

"Say, who are you going with?"

"Gulf, I guess."

Better go Gulf, huh?"

"Yeah, Haw."

"Gonna join?"

"Sure, it's a great deal. That names in that directory are worth six bucks alone."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Say, where do you live?"

"East 77th Street, New York, and you?"

"Walnut Street, Torrington, Connecticut."

The two whipped out pencils and small green address books. After a second, they shook hands and moved apart.

The man we had been watching greeted another friend. "Say, whatcha think of the speeches ..."