Students and soldiers read news of the end of World War I. (PAW Archives/Orren Jack Turner)
Lt. John E. Osmun 1916 was a lucky one: He lived to tell his tale. He was flying a bombing plane in France with his squadron during World War I when a huge, dense cloud enveloped him. He lost sight of his own wing tips, became caught in a spin, and soon started to hurtle rapidly towards the ground.
“Well, this is rather too bad, but it’s the end for yours truly,” he thought, as related in a letter to his father, excerpts of which were published in the Nov. 20, 1918, issue of PAW. “I wonder how soon the ground will come up and kill us.”
Frantically pulling at his controls, Osmun managed to come out of the spin. None of the other planes he had originally flown with was in sight, so he headed back to base.
It was then that he learned that the formation had encountered enemy planes, Osmun wrote. Fierce fighting had ensued, and only one other plane returned. The spin — which he had thought would be the end of him — had actually saved him. Continue reading
The 1970-71 Triangle Club show, Cracked Ice, featured a 40-member cast and a range of material, from Laugh-In-style one-liners to 20-minute theatrical pieces. (PAW Archives)
A scene from the 1969 Triangle show, Call a Spade a Shovel. (PAW Archives)
Since the late 1800s, student members of the Princeton Triangle Club have written, produced, and performed full-scale musical comedies that riff on topics specific to the campus as well as those of society at large. But the shows’ humor hasn’t always gone over well with audiences: The political satire of its 1969 show, Call a Spade a Shovel, caused many alumni to walk out “with clenched fists and gritted teeth” during the group’s 13-city December tour, PAW reported.
The next year, Triangle cancelled its tour and created a spring show that shifted the focus from campus activism and national political movements to something a little lighter. Titled Cracked Ice, the show aimed to be “an entertaining story with a moral — not a sermon or a demand,” according to Triangle president J. William Metzger ’71, who previewed the group’s Reunions performances in a story for PAW.
What might this year’s show entail? Find out when An Inconvenient Sleuth opens Nov. 14 at McCarter Theatre. The show will run through Nov. 16, with January intercession touring dates to be announced.
Coach Dick Colman, left, with Cosmo Iacavazzi ’65 in 1964. (PAW Archives)
At halftime of this weekend’s Princeton-Harvard game, the University will honor the 1964 Tigers football team, which completed the program’s last perfect season 50 years ago this fall. The team included a trio of All-Americans — running back Cosmo Iacavazzi ’65, linebacker Stas Maliszewski ’66, and kicker Charlie Gogolak ’66 — as well as future College Football Hall of Fame coach Dick Colman.
Dave Lee ’86, left, and Steve Fein ’86 show off Chancellor Green’s coffee bar in 1985. (Larry Wolfen ’87/PAW Archives)
With its beautiful stained glass windows, wood-paneled walls, and the occasional bird fluttering by, today’s Chancellor Green is a peaceful haven for studying. But it wasn’t always so quiet.
“On a Thursday night, you couldn’t move,” Duncan MacNichol ’81 told the Daily Princetonian in 2009.
MacNichol was describing the Chancellor Green pub, which opened after New Jersey lowered the drinking age from 21 to 18 in 1973. For about 10 years, students socialized at the pub over beers and snacks. The pub closed in 1984, after the drinking age was raised back to 21. In 1985, Chancellor Green reopened as a coffee bar, above, featuring espressos, cappuccinos, teas, and pastries.
There have been efforts in the last few years to reopen a campus pub, but plans were shelved recently because an ideal location couldn’t be found. For now, Chancellor Green, which began its life as a library, will continue to be a silent space, but for the turning of pages and the tapping of a keyboard.
R. Buckminster Fuller, an architect and inventor best known for promoting the use of geodesic domes, taught as a visiting lecturer at Princeton in the 1950s and made his mark with experimental structures such as the “discontinuous compression sphere,” a towering, self-supported globe composed of aluminum pipes and cables. (The photo above shows the work in progress, with an assist from the local fire department.) Popular Science, in its brief description of the sphere, noted that Fuller had a “reputation for unusual designs … that appear to be held up only by equations.” Continue reading
(PAW Archives, June 7, 1935)
In the summer of 1933, Princeton professor George E. Beggs, above, and Elmer K. Timby made and tested a celluloid scale model of a tower of the Golden Gate Bridge, using a technique that Beggs had invented to test the stress resistance of bridges and other structures. (In the photo, he’s working with a model of the proposed Camden-Philadelphia Tunnel.) Their work attracted nationwide attention, and Beggs’ method has since been used by engineers worldwide.
Engineering, however, did not always take center stage at Princeton. In fact, engineering did not come to Princeton until 1875 — more than a century after the University’s founding in 1746. Until the 1920s, course offerings were limited to civil engineering for undergrads and electrical engineering for graduate students. In a predominantly liberal-arts campus, it seemed, engineering remained on the sidelines.
To bridge the gap between technical training and a liberal-arts education, the University created an “engineering plus” program in 1921. In essence, engineering education was to be liberalized: Undergraduate engineers would be trained in both technical fundamentals as well as cultural and humanistic studies. Fourteen years later, Carlton S. Proctor 1915, a future president of the American Society of Engineers, penned an enthusiastic overview of the program in PAW, calling it “a distinctly Princeton education.”