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I write in a representative capacity – not for all the presidents of Columbia University, nor even for all the past deans of our great Law School; I presume rather to offer a few words of fond appreciation on behalf of the thousands of middle-aged lawyers who once sat at Willis Reese's feet. My class began the 1952-53 academic year and our legal education with Dean Young Berryman Smith as our Torts professor. A few years later, classes would begin to be sectioned, but in those primeval days, we were one big, happy group. Two hundred and forty strong (not all of the adjectives in this and the preceding sentence are meant to be taken literally), we gathered for all of our classes in Harkness Theatre in the basement of Butler Library. Our faculty lineup was Julius Goebel, Dean Smith, Edwin Wilhite Patterson, Jerome Michael, and a beardless stripling, only forty-one years old, Harry Wilmer Jones. Even he seemed ancient to our young eyes.



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