ASSOCIATION OF THE PACIFIC COAST
Rancho Tularcitos, 30 miles inland from Carmel-by-the-Sea, was the scene of a Dartmouth outing that will long remain in the minds of all who were there as the most successful get-together ever held here in California.
But to go back just a bit. When it was definitely learned, sometime in March, that President Hopkins would be the guest of the Pacific Coast Alumni Association on May 16 and 17, wise heads advanced the thought that here was an opportunity to give "Hoppy" a form of entertainment that would be as new and interesting to him as it would be to the rest of us. A real old-fashioned California barbecue was decided upon with little hesitation and no opposition.
Tularcitos ranch, managed by Bill Wright '18, was offered and accepted as the logical setting for the party. Bill promised to have things in good shape to receive the President and members of the Association and his efforts to provide a bang-up good time drew the uncompromising approval of the multitude.
By twos and threes and sevens—about thirtyfive in all—the boys pulled in at the ranch Saturday afternoon. President Hopkins arrived a bit later, having been driven up from the city of Lost Angels by one of the members of the Southern California Association.
After supper a most enjoyable informal discussion took place, in which "Hoppy" was the chief witness for the defence. Stories of older days, questions about the College-was it changing, football line up—inquiries for old nends on the faculty and in the town—and ad infinitum, the same old questions that interested alumni ask the world over, whether they be in New York or 3000 miles away. Each was answered m that disarming way President Hophas that has made him so loved and respected as our most loyal alumnus and a regular
That night the majority of the gang crawled into its sleeping bag or army blanket and stretched out in boyish fashion under the oaks in the yard or on the softer pile of straw in the barn. The nearest approach to attack by wild ammals came in the wee small hours when a few weeks old puppy felt the spirit of wanderlust and made the rounds, clambering affectionately but carelessly over the heads of the would-be sleepers.
The morning brought forth an orgy of athletics, running all the way from a rollicking ball game to a horseshoe tournament. Manystars of days gone by were brought to light and many were the aching muscles and bruised tendons the next day. Prexy was there with the best of us, making a good showing in the' casting of the horseshoe and pitching several hundred innings of errorless ball before he was yanked by umpire-coach Selden Smith '97, and led weeping to the showers.
While all this was going on, final preparations were being made for the raison d'etre of the whole outing—the barbecue itself. When Bill finally started us all down to where the food was, it is recorded that not a man held back—the duty was plainly visible and everyone done it as he seen it.
The setting was picturesque. A clearing had been made under a grove of tall eucalyptus and oak trees. In the center of this a huge pit had been dug, in which a fire had been kept going for many hours previously, and aroitad the edges of the open space were tables and rough benches. The beast of sacrifice was the proverbial fatted calf—absolutely nothing else but. Bill said that the calf had been fed on cream and cream alone for many months and that he had been allowed very little exercise having been trundled about in a truck during: his youth to keep him from getting tough. Well, that s what Bill said! However, none of us would have recognized the animal, because as we now saw him he was all cut up into tenderloins, rib steaks, porterhouses, and sirloins, and was scattered over the tof of an iron screen above the pit of coals. He was giving forth the most tantalizing odors one ever came in contact with.
It was catch-as-catch-can, and in forty-eight seconds everyone was parked on a bench, looking out from under a piece of beef that would feed ten men in one of Hanover's boarding houses. Very little was said—l ask you, how can a fellow talk with a two-pound sirloin between him and his nearest neighbor? Bill very thoughtfully had not prepared anything to eat but the aforementioned calf, as a real California barbecue consists of meat and bread, t may be said to the credit of a few, that several of our more polite members did nibble at a bit of bread just so they wouldn't hurt Bill's feelings. Displacement was far too valuable to waste it on such food.
Ye editor will never forget the picture that "Hoppy" presented—without the slightest bit of shame, our usually staid and discreet President was launching a violent attack on an unsuspecting porterhouse. He was hardly visible to the naked eye—the top of his head—one eye wide open, the other closed in dreamy delight— and the rest of him just plain beef. If our good friend W. J. Bryan could only have been there he would surely have admitted that after all there mas something to the animalistic theory of man's descent!
Human endurance reaches its limit (although we weren't sure that Jim Townsend '94 knew what "limit" meant) and even the best of them finally came up for air, battle-scarred and grimy, but with the light of victory well won in their eyes. Bill announced that there was plenty of meat still on the spits and it was rumored later that Prexy blushed deeply. However, music and dancing were next on the program. The music was furnished by the two Mexican cooks who were responsible tor the barbecue, and the dancing was done by a pretty sixteen-year-old senorita, the daughter of one of our cooks. The editor is no critic of music or dancing so he will make no attempt to comment on the performance. But get this straight —it was good!
The next act was a revelation to the ten erfeet. A bronco was brought down and two of Bill's cowboys put him through his paces—and to an outsider, that pony was a pacer from the word go. Whoop-e-e-e! Let 'er buck! And the cowboy shot around the clearing at breakneck speed. The bronco knew all the tricks of his trade and he gave a wonderful exhibition of downright meanness and perversity. It was a novelty to all who were there and a fitting climax to an outing pregnant with western color and atmosphere.
It was a great party—and a typical Dart mouth party, where everyone was a good fellow and enjoyed himself to the fullest. Above all, it gave President Hopkins an opportunity to'meet the alumni informally and to join m with them in strengthening the ties already strong between them and the college whose representative he is.
Contrasting with the informality of the bar- becue was the annual banquet held the follow- ing night in the Clift Hotel, San Francisco.
The election of officers took place prior to the dinner. For the coming year, the following men will be in charge of the activities of the Pacific Coast Association: president, Fred Stripp '08; vice-president, W. B. Wright '18; secretary and treasurer, H. D. Stillman 'l7.
About sixty were present at the dinner, in cluding a number of men from San Francisco and the Bay section who are planning to enter Dartmouth within the next year or so. It was a distinct innovation for guests of this sort to be present. In addition to furthering our acquaintance with them, it gave them a valuable opportunity to meet President Hopkins, to hear him talk and to get something of that spint of brotherhood that can sway men many miles away from the material part of their college life.
The President's talk was perhaps the most forceful and most interesting one he has ever given before a group of the alumni. He had a message for every one of us—a serious message and one that sent us away with a better picture of the college and the obligation that we as alumni must fulfill. There was not a man there who didn't leave with a stronger faith in the College and its worthy President.
We were especially honored, in addition to the presence of President Hopkins, to have as a guest S. H. Jackman '6O, Dartmouth's oldest living graduate. Mr. Jackman, although ninetyfour years of age, took the long trip down from Sacramento to be present at the banquet. He is exceptionally hale, his mental facuties are keen, and he is mighty proud of the distinction which his age has given him.
As the banquet came to a close, we realized that the three days of joy and fun were over. There remained, however, the knowledge that each one of us—and especially President Hopkins—had taken away a great deal from the renewed acquaintances and contacts with the College If it did nothing more, the President s visit "made the spirit that holds us to the College and to him as its head stronger and more worthwhile than before.
