To The Graduates of 230 College St.

After the fire is out, so much darkness!" these are a few lines from a little Japanese poem but their portent is so deep and so forlorn.

 For five decades. dental students and teachers have trudged the hallowed halls and staggering stair- ways of this _ancient pile. Many lifted a light foot but there were times when many descended with dragging heels. Most of us can pin-point incident after incident through the log of time—-for Old Two-Thirty is steeped with mellow memories, and even the most ungenial reminiscence has become softened and sweetened by the hoary hand of Chronos.

Perhaps the story of each individual does not seem to be found in the following pages: nevertheless, be- cause the walls of the building as we know it are here (and they embrace him as a mother does her son), the essence is here! Leaf after leaf will restore to memory what has been forgotten: teachers, pals, pranks, labs, chairs, units. . . .

A way of learning, a way of teaching, indeed a way of working is now just retrospect.

The dental student of 230 College Street is no more.

At the conclusion of the Second World War, it was difficult to think of anyone not having experience of it. Now a parallel can be drawn: a student not ever being acquainted with "Old 230."

The vista of the years discloses our youth, our man- hood, thoughts and deeds of our times, the hustle and the bustle, the coming and the going, Friends and Fancied Foes, the laughter and the tears. The immortal saga has ceased: only the spirit remains, and HYA YAKA.

"After the Fire is out, so much darkness"!

HAROLD MARCUS