Clinging to bright pink wastebaskets with what little strength they could muster, the inflicted laid on the floor of University Health Services, hoping their stomachs had finally settled.

Sandip Prasad '98 still vividly remembers lumbering into University Health Services (UHS) at about 8:45 p.m., reeling with stomach pain, ready to be sick and hoping for some attention. Instead, he found a crowd of his peers who, strangely enough, shared the same problem.

"I walked in to see our entire class puking in buckets," he says.

Such was the memory many seniors have of a fateful evening in December 1994 when--suddenly and cruelly unannounced--the Norwalk virus attacked.

More than 150 victims, mostly first-years, somehow made it to an overcrowded UHS, where the lucky received hospital beds and others swooned in the hallways. Scores more never made it into UHS, receiving makeshift care from any healthy friend they could find.

There are those Harvard classes of the past who, when reminiscing about the college years, recall times of war and protest. Stories still float buoyantly around campus about days of old, when University Hall was taken over by a feisty student body, or when those on campus actually read a newspaper every morning because a war was raging in Europe.

During the four years that the Class of 1998 populated campus, there have been no events of such grandeur. Still, many say, those graduating today don't make up just another Harvard class.

Events such as the infamous first-year plague, a western-style shootout in the Square, the admissions saga of Gina Grant and the bizarre murder-suicide in Dunster House made for an impressionable first year.

Those who remain on campus permanently--house masters, tutors and dining hall staff--also say they saw something special in the class of 1998, and don't have to think hard to find ways in which the group will be remembered after they are gone.

Shared Experiences

From day one of the Class of 1998's first year, it seemed, bizarre interrup- tions in the normal ebb and flow hinted thatthe class would see some strange twists in itsquest to enjoy the fruits of a Harvard education.

In late November, when many in this class werestill adapting to the rigors of ExpositoryWriting, the University suddenly announced thatPresident Neil L. Rudenstine would be taking anextended leave of absence due to severe fatigueand exhaustion.

The high-profile president's two-month leaveconcluded just as Newsweek magazine shined aspotlight on Harvard, plastering Rudenstine's faceon its front page to play up an article on thestrains of the college presidency in this day andage.

And for the months to follow, the spotlightrarely left for long. On Dec. 7, a quiet Tuesdaynight in the slow time between Thanksgiving andChristmas, the Norwalk virus hit its first wave ofvictims, as first-years from Canaday toPennypacker quickly became ill.

As a precaution, the Freshman Union--where manybelieved the virus was born--shut down for severalmeals and switched to plastic utensils and bottleddrinks. Many students had to skip the winterSocial Analysis 10: "Principles of Economics"midterm the following afternoon.

But not all. Elizabeth A. Haynes '98 recalls(not too fondly) calling her Ec-10 teaching fellowfrom UHS and hearing him explain that having anI.V. in her arm did not give her the right to amake-up midterm. Instead, she could choose to skipthis test and have her final count for more.