On a warm fall night in September, 1935, President Conant welcomed the 1010 members of the Class of 1939 with a strong speech, asserting that the individual integrity and freedom of thought encouraged by a liberal education would help defeat the "dogmatic prophecies" of the European dictatorships. At the University Theater, Shirley Temple was starring in her latest movie, "Curley Top."

Nearly four years later, President Conant's tone had changed but not his message. In the Baccalaureate sermon he urged '39 to "resist the tumult of the moment, the impact of the immediate present, the corrosive atmosphere of potential strife," and develop their own talents and personalities. At the UT Mickey Rooney was featured in the title role of "Huckleberry Finn."

Confronted by Shirley Temple and Hitler, Mickey Rooney and Mussolini, '39 emerged from four years at Harvard not only fully capable of playing one of Harvard's favorite sports, the riot, but also intensely responsive to events outside Cambridge and the ambit of college life.

The class filled the UT but it also overflowed to hear speeches on national and international politics, demonstrated for aid to refugees, and energetically debated the New Deal and neutralism. It entered amidst the depression's blight and graduated into a world darkened by impending war.

On entrance the Class of 1939 was the brightest in history; 588 ranked in the top quarter of their secondary school classes, and 150 were in the top tenth.

Shortly after it arrived in Cambridge, a bitter dispute developed over the Teachers' Oath Act, a Massachusetts Law which required instructors to swear that they would support the national and state constitutions. Kirtley F. Mather, professor of Geology, called the act "unwarranted and dangerous to democracy." He said he represented many Faculty members in refusing to take the oath because it violated his constitutional rights.

Mather's objection was in reality, based purely on principle for he had taken such oaths many times previously. All through his campaign he maintained that he had "no unwillingness to swear under conditions which make an oath appropriate." While a group of seniors circulated a petition supporting him, Mather reconsidered, then retracted his stand in the interest of keeping the University out of a threatened law-suit.

Across the river, new head coach Dick Harlow encountered problems in his effort to rebuild the Harvard football machine. His team ended the season without a major victory and lost to Yale, 14-7. The Yardling eleven also succumbed to the Elis, 21-19, but their unexpectedly strong showing was viewed in the press box as a harbinger of better days.

In December, Lucius N. Littauer '78 gave Harvard $2 million to build a Graduate School of Public Administration. The University responded quickly.

Within the year, a special committee on university education for public service had reported in favor of the venture and provided detailed plans for its enactment. Princeton President Harold W. Dodds led the committee. Harvard greeted his proposals with enthusiasm, and before '39 graduated the school was in operation.

As the Class of 1939's freshman year drew to a close two important academic events occurred: History of Science became the University's 26th field of concentration, and Harvard's foremost Shakespearean scholar, George Lyman Kittredge '82, resigned from the Faculty after several decades as Gurney Professor of English Literature.

First Riot

Aware of one of the college's oldest traditions, '39 finished its first spring in Cambridge with a riot. Bonfires in the Yard brought over 1000 men from the freshman dormitories and the Houses. Bursar's cards were seized in droves. But a few plucky students managed to evade the proctors. As the CRIMSON reported. "One man who failed to have his card was searched without success. When the Yard policeman thereupon claimed that he would remember his face, the freshman made an atrocious face and left the scene with rapidity."

The tercentenary celebration made the most exciting time at Harvard since World War I. About 15,000 people took part in the festivities and 51 colleges sent official representatives. Among the guest was Peter Harvard, a young Englishman who was the only living descendant of the University's founder. President Conant gave a widely publicized speech in which he decried the "educational chaos" and "intellectual anarchy" he saw around him.

Harvard lost to Yale again, although it did score against Princeton for the first time since 1920. But undergraduates turned their energies into a new campaign--for the official formation of the Ivy League. Along with the six other Ivy student newspapers, the CRIMSON ran a front page editorial arguing that no other measure except formation of the League could preserve amateurism in college football. The seven college athletic directors agreed to discuss the problem, but there was little immediate progress except for the addition of a Penn. Harvard game to the existing inter Ivy contests.