CLASS OF 1871
To mark the forty-fifth milestone, fifteen of the forty-five survivors of '71 showed up at Hanover, June 17-21, 1916. Present: Adams, Burleigh, Dana, Ham, Herbert, Hoitt, Johnson, Leach, Page, Robinson, Savage, Smith, Upham, Waters, Wyatt; and of the wives, Mrs. Dana, Mrs. Ham, Mrs. Robinson, Mrs. Waters, and Mrs. Wyatt. This is the smallest number we have rounded up at any of our ten reunions. Judging from the responses, several were prevented from attending as they had planned and many more are husbanding their energies for our fiftieth. To them and to all we commend the inspiring example of '66, with its attendance of sixteen out of a possible nineteen. Again for the third time Charles Ham set the pace for loyalty to class and College by his long, long hike from the Pacific, and at last after forty-five years we grasped the hand of our dear classmate, Ed Johnson, whose genial smile and well remembered voice added about one hundred per cent to the joy of the occasion.
Just why the powers that be insist upon assigning our class to the card room of College Hall, must ever remain an inscrutable mystery, but the class dinner, nevertheless, was a success, gustatorily and fraternally.
There was lacking that particular brand of hilarity inspired of old by the brimming punch bowl, but never has a warmer feeling of good fellowship pervaded any of our class reunions. We missed some whose presence at class meetings could generally be depended upon, especially Richardson, who never failed to meet us with his warm, hearty greeting. In tender memory of our greatly loved and deeply lamented classmate, Adams read several of his letters—happily preserved—written five years ago when he was engaged upon the class history.
Most of the absentees responded by letter or telegram. The list of the living was called, from Abbott to Wyatt, and every effort was made to learn as much as possible about each one.
"Doc" Wyatt, class chorister, who, with the assistance of Upham, our geologist and archaeologist, had unearthed the last melodeon remaining in those parts, led us in the familiar old songs and choruses. We refused to let "Doc" off. Once more we shouted over the song of "The Russia Salve Peddler," and the ballad of the wily billy goat, that coughed up three red flannel shirts and flagged the train! So the hours sped until past one a. m., when we gathered around "Doc" for a parting song.
Amidst all the engrossing events of those busy days, we found time to visit the beautiful cemetery overlooking the river, and to stand in affectionate remembrance beside the last resting places of Bisbee, Folsom, and Richardson.
