considered him the
highest type of Yale man, and it is said that President Hadley of Yale
once referred to 1905 as "Hogan's Class."

As a football player, Jim had few equals. He was captain of the Yale
team in his senior year and was picked by the experts as an
"All-American Tackle."

Jim Hogan at his place in the Yale rush line was a sight worth seeing.
With his jersey sleeves rolled up above his elbows and a smile on his
face, he would break into the opposing line, smash up the interference
and throw the backs for a loss.

I can see him rushing the ball, scoring touchdowns, making holes in the
line, doing everything that a great player could do, and urging on his
team mates:

"Harder, Yale; hard, harder, Yale."

He was a hard, strong, cheerful player; that is, he was cheerful as long
as the other men fought fair.

Great was Jim Hogan. To work with him shoulder to shoulder was my
privilege. To know him, was to love, honor and respect him.

Jim spent his last hours in New Haven, and later in a humble home on the
hillside in Torrington, Conn., surrounded by loving friends, and the
individual pictures of that strong Gordon Brown team hanging on the wall
above him, a loving coterie of friends said good-bye. Many a boy now out
of college realizes that he owes a great deal to the brotherly spirit of
Jim Hogan.

[Illustration: McCLUNG, REFEREE SHEVLIN HOGAN]

Thomas J. Shevlin

There is a college tradition which embodies the thought that a man can
never do as much for the university as the university has done for him.

But in that great athletic victory of 1915, when Yale defeated Princeton
at New Haven, I believe Tom Shevlin came nearer upsetting that tradition
than any one I know of. He contributed as much as any human being
possibly could to the university that brought him forth.

Tom Shevlin's undergraduate life at New Haven was not all strewn with
roses, but he was glad always to go back when requested and put his
shoulder to the wheel. The request came usually at a time when Yale's
football was in the slough of despond. He was known as Yale's emergency
coach.

Tom Shevlin had nerve. He must have been full of it to tackle the great
job which was put before him in the fall of 1915. Willingly did he
respond and great was the reward.

When I saw him in New York, on his way to New Haven, I told him what a
great honor I thought it was for Yale to single him out from all her
coaches at this critical time