A year and a half later, Sue went to a hospital for being crazy. And Paul wishes he could be around next year so he could run into Tricia Nixon while he is tripping.

The freshmen ran out of their dorms in the Yard and followed the crowd up to Lesley for a panty raid. It was a big deal, for it was hard to see women unclad at night then; freshmen could only "entertain members of the opposite sex" for three hours a day during mid-afternoon.

At Leslcy, though, few panties were to be had.

Dare to struggle!

Dare to win!

Bobby Seale!

Live like him!

Somewhat fewer than a hundred women poured out of a rickety old building off of Men Drive. They had not had a chance to shower for a few days, many of them talked tough-much to the horror of some rigid observers. Among the women, there were some who were in love with each other. This fright need some people.

Everyone was on vacation when LBJ announced that he was stepping down and when Martin Luther King was shot and the cities burned and when the Chicago police busted heads during a convention and when Robert Kennedy was shot and when Woodstock became a household word.

School was in session during the Cambodian invasion. As well as during the "protective encirclement" of Laos.

Four seniors staggered out of the Toga Lounge on Mass Ave at a little after midnight. They were not used to drinking, for when everyone else had been drinking in high school, they had been studying or, in some cases, smoking dope.

These seniors shared common interests in life-they had pursued it, so to speak, in not dissimilar ways-but they had never been all that close as friends. Now, with graduation around the corner, something had brought them together-and brought them to drink. They pounded each other on the back and laughed raucously. What was going on here? Well, they would each write books about it in later life.

Dare to struggle!

Dare to win!

Charlie Manson!