Houses Decried

Even after the Houses were built, the Crime still bore malice to the system. The CRIMSON castigated both the sublimity of Lowell high tables, which it labelled "aristocratic tendencies" and the ridiculousness of the rabbit coat-of-arms used on the wrong side of the Plympton tracks.

A CRIMSON crusade in 1931 was largely responsible for the resumption of athletic competition against Princeton after a five-year cooling-off period. Those were the days before Princeton's Tigers became adversity's virgins, and the University was thankful for the Crime campaign then if it isn't now.

Although the Crimeds were irresponsible, they were also depressible, and the depression did just that to them in 1932. The paper couldn't meet its normal $3,000 in annual salaries. Papers were small and advertisement few and far between, although deadliness were met somehow or other.

Secession seemed inevitable, and in the spring of '34, eleven men who had been the nucleus of the Crime resigned to form the Journal; the battle between the two was on.

What was left of the CRIMSON board rallied around to wage a torrid scoop- skirmish with the rebel sensationalists. The "100 Days War" finally came to an end by June when the Journal-ists had had it financially and academically; the victorious Crime emerged a far more modern and readable paper than it had been before the schism.

While its semi-official status and inertia helped in the triumph, the real here for the CRIMSON in the Journal battle was Arthur Hopkins. From 1929 right up to the present, linotyper Art has been the her of the nightly "Battle of the Bilge." It was he who took over when the green undergraduates left off in 1934 and he who saved the day for the Crime again during World War II. Few remember that his name was put at the top of the masthead as President one issue in 1935, but no Crimed will ever forget Art. If it's anyone's paper, it's his.

Art's present-day night-shift helper is Lewis Erlanson. A jack-of-all-trades, the popular Louie works for the Crime from 9 p.m. to 6 a.m. and also is a part-time florist and Stadium program vendor.

We cite these members of the bureaucracy, because their roles are significant on an organization where officers come and go like French cabinets. Two others deserving mention are Mrs. Anna S. Hoke, who did about everything that could be done on the paper as secretary from 1938 to 1946, and Miss Marie Beaupre, Radcliffe '46, the CRIMSON bookkeeper for the past six years.

After the defeat of the Journal in the thirties, the CRIMSON'S next major opponent was the commercial tutoring schools. When in 1939 its conscience was hurt more from complacency than its budget would be hurt by courage, the paper rejected advertising from what it called "intellectual brothels" and began a crusade that saw their abolition in a year.

The paper emerged from battle flushed with victory and financially very, very able. Red ink was a thing of the past.

Equally colorful was the CRIMSON'S 70th birthday in 1943, and the President of the United States took time out to write, "As an old CRIMSON man I am sure that. . .I voice the sentiments of all that company of happy men when I say that none of them would exchange his CRIMSON training for any other experience or association in his college days."

There was little for "that company of happy men" to be happy about, however, as the undermanned staff found publication a terrific struggle during the early years of thewar. The demise of the paper on May 27, 1943, had appeared inevitable for quite a while.

But before it quit, the CRIMSON set up a Graduate Board to keep a watchful eye on its temporary successor, the Harvard Service News. The substitute was a four-column, semi-weekly, semi-literate sheet that was not allowed to express editorial opinion. Although it was circulated free to military personal, civilians free on the campus wouldn't take the Service News on a bet.

Nevertheless, the militarized sheet did improve, and as a connecting link between the '43 and the post-war Crime, it was well worth the $1,000 it lost in three years of publication.