guages and History with the assistance of a teacher of German,
Claude K. Scheifley.
Herbert Taylor, the Alumni Secretary and editor of The Journal,
reported this meeting of the faculty with the remark that this
sixty-ninth year would mark the division between two epochs of
school history. Actually it was the seventieth year which made the
most lasting impression, chiefly because of Professor Taylor himself.
Herbert Taylor's definitive history entitled Seventy Years of
the Worcester Polytechnic Institute can never be too highly appraised
or praised. A seven-year labor of devotion--even with its
chronological detail, it had warm readability and surprising objectivity.
The objectivity was doubtlessly a personal characteristic
attained, as only such detachment can be attained, by a serious
illness which developed shortly after Herbert Taylor accepted the
assignment.
In 1929 The Journal had had one blank page with the explanation
that the alumni secretary had spent "too much time and too
much energy" to fill it up. For fourteen months thereafter Herbert
Taylor recuperated in the Rutland Sanitorium. He was deluged
with attention. "I am hopelessly in debt," he wrote. "As soon
as I get some strength I shall start refunding."
"The debt had been paid in advance," reassured The Journal,
while twelve persons scrambled to take care of Professor Taylor's
many projects, especially the new ones connected with the Homecoming
Day planned for the fall.
In inimitable fashion Herbert Taylor refunded with many subsequent
years of alumni secretaryship and with his comprehensive record
of Tech life, which has become the bible of reference at the Institute.
Meanwhile the Alumni registers became heavy with names and
statistics of the school's greatest pride--its graduates. Names of
famous men began to tumble over each other in their bid for well-deserved
recognition. In 1938 there were 4500 members in the
Alumni Association, and many were the surveys made of their
whereabouts and accomplishments. At one point the Alumni office
attempted to make a projection of how many graduates would still
be living in another fifty years.
"We don't care how many," teased Professor Allen out at the
Alden Hydraulic Lab. "Just tell us which ones."
The gifts to the school began to reflect the prosperity and generosity
of its graduates. Some gifts, to be sure--such as the
David Hale Fanning legacy--came unexpectedly from outside
sources in recognition of the school's new prestige. There were
others, like Dr. Kinnicutt's and William Bird's, which came from
the teachers. But most of the gifts came from former students.
More than a million dollars was contributed for scholarships,
thereby giving one-third of the students some form of financial aid.
There were also gifts of cherished land, exemplified best by the
homes and property on West Street given by the Higgins families.