Because of a lack of communication, some of you attending last fall's reunion missed getting a copy of Price Memorial with the Black
Steeple as seen at the top of this page: NORTH GEORGIA COLLEGE BEFORE THE GOLD, by Warren Kirbo (16" x 22") that we were passing out
This version of Price Memorial is available ONLY to those of us who graduated before the Gold was applied to the Steeple
in 1973. If you attended and did not get one and want one, contact:
Bob Ridgway Americus, GA 1-229-924-5554 or
Warren Kirbo Mt Juliet,
TN 1-877-859-9054 (toll free number) or
Melissa Walton Dahlonega, GA 1-706-864-1547 Alumni Office
We are asking two things:
- Since mailing one to you is not free Bob Ridgway (the prints are in Americus) will tell you the postage and the cost of the tube to
protect it (aka postage and handling).
2. THE PRINT OF PRICE MEMORIAL IS A GIFT, so THIS IS NOT MANDATORY, but should you find it in your heart to make some kind of
contribution to North Georgia's Alumni Association, be it $5, or $50, or $500. ON YOUR CHECK INDICATE where you would like your contribution
to be used (leadership center, school of education, school of nursing, scholarship fund) and mail it to N G C & S U Attn: ALUMNI ASSOCIATION,
82 College Circle, Dahlonega, GA 30597. The CLASS OF 1967 and the Central Coordinating Committee, appreiciates your generosity.
Who Are We, the Class of 1967?
The Class of 1967 started to form in 1962 when across Georgia and sixteen other states we decided that
North Georgia College would be our choice. Most likely this revolved around North Georgia's reputation for the success of its pre-med
students, that it was an inexpensive small college, that the applicant had a relative who had attended, or that parents were encouraging
NG for something far more personal.
The Cuba Missile Crisis of October 1962 was more than a simple reminder, it was a not so subtle
hint of the impact world events would have on this class. A year later, still a year before our first chance to vote in a presidential
election, the asassination of President Kennedy shocked us and changed our options. The following summer still before our sophomore
year, along with the national conventions were the Tonkin Gulf Incidents and Congress' passage of the resolution requested by LBJ.
Between the sparks of war and the emergence of flower-power, were choices we made that have determined our character and politics
that for most of us still rule. In 1966, our "contract juniors" went to Fort Bragg for "officer's basic." It was also the year we
started to hear of our predecessors who were "casualties of war." During our senior year when many of us made decisions of careers
and of partners, we were also taught by a cadre that were veterans of this new war. But, world events did not stop on June 4th 1967:
We awoke Monday morning the day after graduation to news of the Six Day War between Israel and her Arab neighbors. The Class of 1967
was destined "to live in interesting times": Vietnam. Watergate. Iran Hostage Crisis. Desert Storm. Iraq.
In 1963 the corps was marched
to church. In 1966, we marched to church, but did not have to enter. In 1967 going to church was an individual choice. But church
formation had left an impression. We had a perspective made by a few Old Testament verses: "To every thing there is a season, and
a time for every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die, a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which
is planted. A time to kill, and a time to heal;" (Ecclesiastes c3, v1-3a)
TURN TURN TURN, arranged and scored by Bob Dylan, and during
the summer after our sophomore year, made a hit by "the Byrds," has remained a classic whose verses have defined not only our class,
In particular, the line, A TIME TO KILL AND A TIME TO HEAL ... applies to North Georgia College, a gold mine not only
for soldiers but for doctors. Forty years have passed and this truth has never left this writer's mind: The time to kill has passed,
the time to heal has come. As ancient as the granite beneath the Blue Ridge Mountains, those words are the sense of renewal, the healing,
we experience when we return to Dahlonega.
The Class of 1967 who ARE we? We are: Golfers. Retired military. Artists. Teachers. Writers.
Parents. Doctors. Businessmen. Retired Bankers. Leaders in our communities and churches. Merchants. Dentists. A Ship Captain. Manufacturers
reps. Hospital Administrators. A pilot in Iraq. We are people who's necks tingle when we see a military parade and who cry at military
funerals. We know the words of songs about war and peace. It is OUR music you still dance to ...
We are Georgians for the most part,
graduated, then scattered by the winds of time. We fought a war, we saw the world and we grew up. We are Americans who stand apart
from most of our friends, because for some reason, we can name the Secretary of Defense, Recognize the Vice President, even the candidates
for the Presidency. We know who the Chief of Staff of the Army is ... the Chief Justice. We know our representatives and senators,
both state and national. And, most of all, we appreciate each and every freedom and right that sets us apart from the rest of the
world, and especially so, those who died to secure them.
Some of us used to write here and there the letters TPS to vent our frustrations,
only to realize now ... 40 years later that those same letters stand for THIS PLACE's SPECIAL. Now as our reunion nears we find ourself
banding together as brothers and sisters to protect our heritage. Our memories of our North Georgia College, the school where we earned
our independence from our parents' protective nests, have become to us somewhat sacred.
We are the last Georgians who had to take
a literacy-test to earn the right to vote. Now, as we look around, we see a new America where many voters haven't an inkling of why
they have the right to vote, and even less of which candidate stands for what, and votes without a sense of WE, but instead a sense
of ME. We stare. We cringe. We saw it coming, and didn't take note. But we are still young enough to demonstrate, to pass on what
we have learned, and we are willing.
We are the Class of 1967: One of the classes history blessed by making us one of the last to
have the opportunity, and with the professorial guidance that forced us to ask, and then to learn, "WHY?" We are also the class history
cursed with first-hand memory of what we once had, we remember "Camelot." We know what we have already lost and can see what we are
about to lose. Now circumstances are reawakening us. We we are comparing notes. And, sharpening our collective mind.
Sunday Morning. After the festivities of the night before, Dixie Close Turman shot this view from Memorial Hall looking up to Price Memorial, over the top of the slabs honoring NGC Alumni. As with Carey Mitchell's photo of "The Wall" on the TAPS page, please respect Dixie's talent and get her permission before "borrowing" this photo for any other use.