Whatever marks the Class of '21 left on Harvard, perhaps none has stood the test of time as well as the University broad jump record of 25' 3" set 50 years ago this July by the late Ned Gourdin '21. Harvard's second-oldest track record is only 13 years old.

Gourdin made his famous leap on July 23 at Harvard Stadium in the Harvard-Yale -Oxford-Cambridge meet, which the Americans won easily. The jump also broke the existing world record of 24' 11 3/4" set in 1901, and Gourdin went on to finish second in the 1924 Olympics.

Gourdin also distinguished himself in other activities. After serving as a special justice on the Judicial Council and as an assistant U. S. Attorney, he became in 1958 one of the first blacks named to Massachusetts's Superior Court bench. He died in Quincy in 1966, two days before the 45th anniversary of his world-record performance.

Pentathlon

His greatest fame came from his athletic accomplishments. Besides starring in the broad jump, Gourdin was the national champion in the 100-yard dash in 1920, and during the next two years was national pentathlon champion.

Even though Gourdin lost the Olympic title in the broad jump to Michigan's DeHart Hubbard, Gourdin leaped to an incredible 25' 8" the next day in a noncompetitive demonstration, topping Hubbard's Olympic jump by 14".

'Sinews of Steel'

The New York Times showed most of its interest in Gourdin the day he set the record, running a big, colorful story on the event. Excerpts are printed below:

"For nearly 20 years this mark [the former one] had withstood the efforts of the world's best. Many youths with sinews of steel have sought to wipe it off the book and write their names in sport's Hall of Fame with one gigantic effort, but, while some have approached it, none ever bettered it until here this afternoon when the Crimson trimmed husky fairly catapulted himself up and beyond the dust-covered figures two decades old. Incidentally, he won the 100-yard dash also."

Though the meet outcome had already been decided, "interest was still at fever heat. There seemed to be a tenseness in the hot atmosphere that forecast an impending performance of great moment." The 1000 spectators "seemed to sense that Gourdin was about to make history-that he was about to hurl his body to a record."

The Jump

"Then as a great, oppressive silence fell over the spectators, Gourdin started, his spikes swishing through the air. They flashed in the sunlight and his powerful strides had carried him to the edge of the jumping pit. He had measured his stride perfectly, and he did not have to falter or shorten or lengthen it. Then he bunched his strong body together, and, as he leaped high and far, it looked as if he were a human projectile fired from some unseen and unheard gun..."

Hat in the Air

When the record was announced, "it was as if everyone in the assemblage had bellows for lungs. Cheer upon cheer rolled up and was reechoed back from the other side of the Charles River. Hats were tossed high in the air with reckless abandon. None thought or cared what became of them. The crowd had but one thought-to pay homage to one of the greatest performances in the annals of track and field history."