All that to introduce my recollection of an unforgettable event during my freshman year at Reed. The occasion was the 1938 Political Dinner. (During the thirties, a few weeks before each major election Reed students hosted a dinner to which major candidates from all parties were invited and generally came. The 1936 dinner received nationwide attention for a prominently posted banner, "Simpson for Queen.")

The 1938 Political Dinner was held in the old commons (more recently the student union). A long north-south table near the west wall was for Democrats; the Democratic candidate for governor sat at its north end, some lesser Democratic candidates or workers on either side near him, and along the rest of it sat students of Democratic persuasion. A long table for Republicans was near the east wall. Between the two gubernatorial candidates was a round table for members of the Student Council. (For such an auspicious occasion, its female members wore formals). Between the Democratic and Republican tables, in line with the Student Council table, was a shorter one for independents. My own inclinations were Democratic or independent, but by the time I could choose a seat those tables were pretty well filled. So I took a seat at the Republican table, on the east side with a view of the whole room, not far from Charles Sprague, the candidate for governor.

Students served as waiters and waitresses. Dinners were served onto plates in the kitchen. Waiters carried, overhead, large oval trays loaded with several plates into the dining room. As one waiter was about halfway between Charles Sprague and the Student Council, he felt one plate slip on his tray. A deft movement to counter the slipping threw the whole tray off balance. Six or eight dinners crashed to the floor, over towards the independents' table. The noise and the mess of mashed potatoes, gravy, peas, meat, and plates provoked an outburst of laughter.

Waiters and waitresses quickly set about to clean up the mess. The tray was placed on a small serving table, and the spilled plates put on it. The spill attracted the attention of Ann Brownlie, director of dormitories and commons, an able middle-aged woman who was well dressed, though not in a formal, for the occasion. She rushed over, got a little too close, slipped on the gravy and, grasping for support at the little serving table, fell into the spill. With her, the tray and plates once again fell to the floor in a great clatter. So there was the well-dressed hostess for the event, on her hands and knees in the potatoes and gravy! There were roars of laughter.

But Charles Sprague kept a straight face throughout. In the election, he won.

Memory can be fickle. Can others who were present at the 1938 event confirm or correct, from their memories, the tale I have told?