Class of 1926
I have made a gratifying discovery. We, as a class graduated from an institution of higher learning in the year 1926, are a most primitive class. Recall with me the facts of Sociology 1. We learned then that in man's earliest days, when written communication was rarely used, he depended for his latest news, his ancient history, and his wealth of myths and legends on the word of his neighbor or tales of the traveler. He never wrote. His was a world of floating gossip, jumbled rumor, and garbled tales. Just so does the 1926 man pursue his primitive way. He hops out of an elevator, a Pullman train, or a Ford and rushes up to your Secretary saying, "I've heard that Jo Blank was doing something somewhere; I'm not sure, but I thought you would like to know." The problem is solved. No longer does one worry about the scarcity of class letters giving real news and facts. We seem to have sworn an undying oath that we would stick to the most primitive method of communication, come what may. Well, we always were an individual class, at least so it has been said.
But to continue; you may have heard that the big 1926 dinner staged at the Dartmouth Club was everything that a '26 gathering should be. We had fifty men there, the largest number at any banquet held at the Club to date. We had a report on the class finances, a talk from Pat Hathaway '07 and Mac Rollins '11, and we had a fine dinner in the bargain. After dinner came the famous movies. The comments forthcoming from the audience surpassed even the Nugget. Things such as Max Whitman's convincing speech delivered on Old Timers' Day and the trick Theta Delt group picture have now been preserved for posterity. Tom Farwell came in just as we were starting the first reel, and I must say here that we owe a lot to Tom for his work. Such movies as ours will warm the hearts of the most blase graduate. By all means every man of us should see them. (That's a cue for a few class gatherings about the country.) Our next New York class dinner will be held on the 21st of January, and we hope on the corresponding Friday of many successful months to come.
It may be news to know that Don Church has gone to Florida to spend the winter working, that Bob Stopford has transferred his doughnut-making machine from Philadelphia to Flushing, N. Y., that Paul Leussler sells Fownes gloves in Michigan and a few other states nearby, that Mac McDavitt is in the banking business in New York, and that Jack Straight is minus his appendix.
One of the more bizarre jobs is that of Don Robinson's. It seems that while Don was yet a mere stripling he saved a lass from drowning, for which he received one Carnegie medal. Now after graduation, when Don was thinking of various things to do he went to the Carnegie Foundation and inquired after opportunities there. Now he has his job with them. His business is to look about the country for heroes. No, little boys and girls, he doesn't carry a lantern. As I have HEARD he bears of a thrilling rescue. Immediately he boards a train to the location, that he may catch the hero before he dashes away. Perhaps he. immediately pins on the medal, but at any rate his object seems to be to get his man.
Although you all knew that Jim Oberlander had a successful year at coaching, perhaps you didn't know that our other two coaches had successful seasons. Mr. Hillman Fallon at Athol, Mass., turned out a high-powered eleven, as did Buck Kelley at Laconia. I have heard from reliable sources that the people of both the towns think the world of these experts. I have also learned that when Flash gets his team in the gym between halves for the fight talk, strong men weep and wish that they were the men like in Mr. Kipling's poem "If." Of course we of '26 who have heard Flash deliver his stirring public addresses know well how he might be on the other end of a fight talk. Buck's boys presented him with a handsome gold watch in token of their admiration for him.
It was news to learn that John St. Clair had found a job with the Outdoor Advertising Company. He and Ed Chaffin are our two representatives in this company. Also in Chicago is Chuck Hornburg. Chuck has remained in the automobile business. In place of the fine second-hand cars which he sold in Hanover he now holds a job with the Nash people, which: I understand is almost a position. I pick up some very interesting news from Jo Kinney. Jo travels extensively, as I have said, and he brings me the latest news.
Professor Breyfogle had the misfortune to fracture a jaw just before Christmas vacation. Sid Haywood and he were skating along side by side during one of their hard afternoons' work in Hanover, and someone collided with them. Bob went home to recuperate, and writes me that he expects to have the jaw well and back in action after the holidays.
I need confirmation for the statement that Doug Everett is playing hockey with the Collegians in Boston. I do know that Jack Kjerner has been playing during the winter in New York.
New 1926 members of the Dartmouth Club of New York are: Mac McDavitt, Bob Weil, Snipe Esquerre, Russ Newcomb, Don Church, and Larry Wolff. The addition of these men brings our. enrollment up to approximately fifty men, which is not bad if anyone should come along in the customary hack and inquire.
I have a feeling after writing this damp note similar to that sort one used to get after finishing a thesis. But remember this, classmates, as I have pointed out, we are a primitive folk and we primitive folk don't write letters to our class secretaries.
P. S. You really don't have to remember that, honest.
Secretary, 342 Madison Ave., New York
