Ivy Harvest

In mailboxes across the country last week, the letter that brought whoops or wails finally arrived. It came from one of the East's eight Ivy League men's colleges or the Seven Sisters women's colleges. Some kids took it with aplomb. When Brian Silver, 17, slammed into the house from Denver's East High School, his mother handed him two letters. He opened them coolly and said: "I've been accepted by Yale and Harvard. I think I'll go to Harvard." His calm was rare. On Long Island, N.Y., Ciba Ruth Vaughan, 18, dragged nervously home from Great Neck North Senior High School, finally faced the letter from Smith College. She was in. Burbled Ciba: "I went crazy. I must have called 80 people to break the news."

In a year when 900,000 freshmen will enter U.S. colleges, the news affected only a handful. The Ivy League men's colleges rejected 25,740 students (the women's colleges release no figures). They accepted 13,640 boys to fill 8,545 places in September; the disparity is due to multiple admissions. But the handful were the most pawed over in the U.S. A precursor of the future at other colleges across the U.S., this year's Ivy League race was the fiercest of all time. It reached such a pitch that one Manhattan executive, overhearing two matrons as they were getting out of a taxi, swears that he heard one say: "Of course I'd sleep with him if I thought it would get Billy into Yale."

"Most Rigorous." Fueled by war babies and hunger for status, the spurt in Ivy League applications ranged from 10% over last year at Cornell to 28% at the University of Pennsylvania. The average: 16%. With an 18% boost in final applications, Princeton's Director of Admission C. William Edwards called the selection job "the most rigorous in my experience." It was just as bad for women's colleges. Radcliffe had 1,000 "well-qualified" applicants for a freshman class of 280.

Thousands of youngsters could ask: Why was I accepted or rejected? The decisions often seemed downright whimsical. At McLean (Va.) High School, David Stanley, 18, top boy in his class, was turned down by Swarthmore, which accepted Jerry Nelson, 16, whose grades were mediocre. At New York City's Andrew Jackson High School. Rickey Field, 18, was accepted by Harvard, Princeton and Columbia, but turned down by the University of Michigan. At New York's Riverdale Country School, James Avary, 18, applied only to Princeton. His College Board English and math aptitude scores averaged only 580 (out of a possible 800), but he was accepted.

Down with Numbers. Why? Students like Avary, who happens to be a three-letter athlete (and a Georgia boy attending a fine New York private school), were a clue to the fact that colleges have turned more than ever to subjective choices. One reason: so many more applicants are scoring so much higher on objective tests that the tests are less decisive. Today's decisions are frequently no longer even "rational," according to College Board President Frank Bowles. (He feels that the tests will simply have to be made tougher.) Yale's Dean of Admissions Arthur Howe Jr. says that results from the March tests (received in April) are too late to be useful. Next year he will not even consider tests taken later than December.

Whether or not they agree, other admissions men have turned to all sorts of "intangible" criteria. As Dartmouth's Director Edward T. Chamberlain Jr. puts it: "We say in the net we think this boy is a better boy for Dartmouth (to hell with the numbers) and we take that boy."

An example is Grosse Point High School's Tony Lott, accepted by Dartmouth, although he scored 470 on the English achievement test. He weighs 202 Ibs. and is a varsity football guard. (He "might" go out for football at Dartmouth.) Walter Empson of Hillcrest High School in Dallas averaged only 600 on the tests, but was president of the student council and a star basketball player. His letter from Princeton was no surprise: "The coach told me some time ago that I was pretty well in." This sort of thing evokes the words of a top Eastern college representative, who interviewed a star quarterback (with fine marks) no' long ago: "Scholarships are made only on the basis of need, and we need you."

Hairsplitting. But such cases are extreme. Almost invariably, last week's chosen few with average academic ability had other qualifications: an offbeat talent, a semifinalist rank in the Merit Scholarship competition, a drive to become something specific in life, a glowing recommendation from high school teachers. The Ivy League makes few "fuzzy" choices, says Fritz Meier, boys' counselor at suburban (Chicago) Oak Park and River Forest High Schools. "They've been involved in selective admissions for a long, long time, and they've become rather skillful."

From nearby New Trier Township High School, for example, Princeton received three applications:

P:Bill Ohle, 358th in a class of 898, had aptitude scores of 673 (verbal) and 629 (math). He lettered twice in cross-country and track, was an Eagle Scout.

P:Bruce Blair, 324th in the class, scored 711 and 658 on the tests, is the school's best discus thrower, a reserve on the football team, and one of the leads in the school opera.

P:Dave Hatcher, 260th in the class, scored 630 and 590, is an outstanding runner (a 1:59 flat half-mile), the vice president of the sailing club, and a dancer in the school review.

Which boy would Princeton accept? All of them were topnotch candidates, but Princeton chose one. The hairsplitting decision: Bruce Blair, admitted on the strength of his general well-rounded record and strong aptitude-test scores. Ohle and Hatcher were undismayed. They both got into Brown, their first choice on the basis of a spring trip to it and Princeton. "A party school" was the way Hatcher saw Princeton. "I am willing to sacrifice Princeton's better name for what I think will be a better education."

Find a Motive. Subjective or not, the Ivy League schools were far from easy on themselves in last week's choices. Using a typical method, Columbia's Dean of Undergraduate Admissions David Dudley lined up 3,000 applications for 670 places. His staff first ranked each boy on the sole basis of two aptitude scores. Some were clearly admissible on this basis, some not. The problem: 800 middle-group applicants for 400 places. From then on, intangibles were vital. The chief gauge: "Finding the kid who looks stronger on incentive, who has a real motive." Recalls Dudley: "We moved around the table, shuffling papers. We moved more and more slowly." It took two days to eliminate 50 of 200 candidates for 150 places. "We have to look for every scrap of information we can get. We've turned down kids who were absolutely terrific, kids who could have walked in here three years ago. We would have gone on our hands and knees to get them."

For every admissions man. the process was harrowing. Princeton's Director Edwards reported that at least two-thirds of the candidates were perfectly qualified to meet Princeton's standards. Harvard had applications from 5,208 boys in more than 2,000 schools, largest number in its three-century history. "At least 95%" were qualified. Yale's Dean Howe was deeply concerned that "highly desirable people are being turned down.'' Said the University of Pennsylvania's Dean of Admissions Robert H. Pitt: "I often had real difficulty with my own conscience at night."

"We Do Try Hard." Is there any solution? One might be to return to strictly academic criteria. But unless the Ivy League colleges expand (unlikely), or until the nation creates more good colleges that also enjoy Ivy League prestige, besieged admissions men seem due to depend more and more on subjective criteria.

Some officials see this trend as a healthy antidote to overemphasis on tests. Says Wellesley's Director of Admission Mary Evans Chase: "We're interested in character, too, you know. By the way a girl tells us about the things that interest her, and from what her teachers say about her, we may realize that she is a stunning human being. Someone has to be in the bottom half of the class, and often these are the girls."

In a lengthy statement to rejectees, Harvard said: "We believe that nonacademic factors should be of particular importance. We make no pretensions to infallibility. We deeply regret having to deny the opportunity for a Harvard education to so many qualified students, and are distressed by the disappointments our decisions cause." Adds Columbia's Dean Dudley: "We do try hard. We hope we're making good judgments."

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