Every morning during exam period, Mr. Goodpeople arrives at Mem Hall at 8:30 a. m. for a day of work which lasts until 10 p. m. Goodpeople is the man who oversees exams, and Mem Hall, because of its central location, is exam headquarters.

Goodpeople is actually John F. Adams, whose three-part Harvard job includes assisting the director of the evening school and assisting the Summer School Registrar, as well as heading the exam program.

He earned his nickname during his years as a head proctor in various large rooms. When this year's seniors arrived at Harvard, Adams gave the exams in Mem Hall. After passing out all materials, he would say, "My good people, the exam has begun." Three hours later, Adams's line was "My good people, the exam is now over."

Adams's rise within the hierarchy of exam overseers has been quick since the early 1960's, when he was a graduate student proctoring exams. After a couple of years, he eventually got the head job in Lowell Lec. Two years later Adams moved up to the top position at Mem Hall, the traditional stepping stone to the directorship, which he accepted in 1969.

"I feel for the students," Adams said Wednesday morning during his rounds, which take him to every exam room two or three times during the three hours. "I know exactly what they're going through."

"We have a meeting of our proctors before exam period, and we try to give them our philosophy," he said. "We're here to provide a service, not to be detectives. We tell them to see to it you have blue books, water, and know the time. We want to make sure a student finishes his course satisfactorily."

Adams explained that his two predecessors were different types. One was a retired executive of General Time Corporation who devised intricate charts and systems in a super organizational effort. The other was less meticulous and "went around writing things on the back of envelopes." Adams has tried to compromise. "You need organization, but you have to have a humanizing element, too," he said. His "good people" lines were attempts at lightness.

Wednesday morning had more than its share of problems for Adams. At 9 a. m. he placed the standard call from Mem Hall to Elsie H. Nelson, back in Holyoke Center. "All the rooms are covered, and the exams are out," Adams told her in his most business-like tone.

But it wasn't quite true. Fifty Physics 1b students in Jefferson were without exams because of an error somewhere along the line. An "emergency" call had already been placed to the printing office, which threw it back on the press. Unfortunately, the exam was 17 pages long.

This shortage preoccupied Adams for half the morning while Physics 1b students wandered in and out of Jefferson 250. Finally, at 10:37, the exams had been delivered and the test started.

But one problem can lead to another. Adams feared that the students would finish too late to get to lunch and called the Union to ask that it stay open until 2 p. m. The Union agreed, and Adams beamed as he finished the call. "When one department cooperates with another at Harvard, we can work things out."

Later, while heading to the Geological Lecture Hall to check with proctors there, he ran into a tall woman with sunglasses. "Diane?"

"Mr. Adams. I'm lost. I was taking my break, and now I can't find my room." She was proctoring the English 120 exam Adams was heading for, and he smiled as he turned her around and led her back the right way.

After rounding a building, she saw the entrance to the Geological Lecture Room. "Oh, this is it!" Diane exclaimed. "This yard is a

landmark. There's a yard with rhinoceri, but this is the right one. I did this yesterday too."

Adams's main daily concern, however, is that no students unintentionally miss exams. After attendance slips are collected and checked against lists, a proctor in the Mem Hall headquarters phones Nelson at Holyoke Center. She calls all absentees to try to get them to the exam by the smoking break, the deadline for arrivals.

"This is Harvard's wake-up service." Adams said. "There aren't many colleges that do that." He explained that he can "relax a little" once he knows every absentee has been called by 10:30 a. m. During a typical two-week exam period, five to ten students are roused from sound sleep by such calls.

Just as things were working out Wednesday morning. Adams went to the men's room in Mem Hall. He came out with a broken zipper. He walked holding his Harvard notebook in front of him instead of at his side. After making two more exam stops, Adams headed for his Chauncey Street home to change pants.

As he came down his stops in the new trousers, he displayed his one piece of mail, a card from the Internal Revenue Service. "This just isn't my day." Adams said as he looked at the card. Then someone reminded him of his success with the Union, perhaps making it a good day. Mr. Goodpeople looked up and smiled. "Yeah, I guess you're right."