“I don’t remember registration at all,” says Douglas, “and I was lucky in that my dad and the United Church paid most of my university expenses. My summer jobs clerking at a store and working in missions rounded out a slim budget. I remember my first week of classes as scary. I was young, I came from Lacombe, and the U of A was a big place.

“The nurses lived in one wing of St. Steve’s, remembers Douglas, “and it was completely shut off from the rest of us. But there was a gym on the 5 th floor, with a high partition to separate us from the nurses. One night we took a ladder to the gym, and we all climbed the partition. All of us wore sneakers so no one would hear us as we dropped down to the nurses’ side of the partition. Each of us was stationed at a different point, and at a pre-arranged signal, we rushed into all the nurses’ rooms, all at once, and dumped them out of their beds. Our escape route was down the long cylindrical fire escapes that attached the various floors of St. Steve’s. These would funnel you down from any floor right to the ground outside.

“Now the nurses had a housemother and she was a strict battle-axe. She was furious with us and went to Principal Tuttle to demand that we be punished. He called us all in and suggested we send the housemother a bouquet of roses. We did. It worked. Nothing more was ever said.

“And by the way, we all felt sorry for those nurses because they had a 10 p.m. curfew and once a month they would be allowed to stay out until midnight – a late pass. This made it tough when it came to dating. You’d be across the street from St. Steve’s in the Tuck Shop, and if there was a nurse with you, she’d constantly be looking at her watch because if she was even a minute past the 10 p.m. curfew, she lost that one monthly late pass.

I Was There - Ellen Schoeck | Page 336-337

Submitted by Douglass Car (BA ’42, BDIV ’45)