Class of 1911

I am sure the class will be sorry to learn that Rollie Hastings recently had the misfortune to lose his beautiful home at Highland Park, 111., with all its contents. Fortunately perhaps, all the family were away at the time of the fire, so that the loss was entirely a property loss. Rollie manag'ed to get home from Chicago just about in time to see the smoldering ashes inside the brick walls.

Stan Rockwood is now with Michigan State College, Division of Liberal Arts, in the Department of English, and residing at 526 Hillcrest Ave., East Lansing, Mich.

Wee Kimball,- on a trip to Florida, reports a visit with Frank Dodge and Don Cheney, as do, of course, all Nineteen-Eleveners who get that far south. Wee says that Don was busy, the particular week that he was there, getting ready for a state conference of social work. Don, as you know, is president of the State Conference, and is known as the Ben Lindsay of the South.

Wee reports that Frank's hotel is filled to capacity for the next two months, and that it was an inspiration to see a tough job being so well done, this particularly in view of the fact that the hotel situation in Florida this winter is not all orange blossoms.

Last month it was reported that Carl Hope had been ill in the hospital. At that time the seriousness of his illness was not appreciated, but Dutch Irwin writes that Carl was very ill indeed, in fact that for some days his recovery was doubtful, but that now he is improving and rapidly getting back his health.

The following information taken from the archives of our classmate, Mac Rollins, and filed among his executive papers in the New York clubhouse should be of interest:

Doc Wyman, once in chronology and always in spirit, of 1911, is living here at the Club after seven years of itching feet that took him to Hawaii, the Philippines, and China.

Frederick "Alowishus" McLaughlin has returned to the fold in toto, being a foundation engineer, a concrete case of starting at the bottom and working up.

Chuck Emerson spent a night or two at the Club early in January. His notion of life is bigger and better galoshes.

The annual dinner brought out a reasonably good delegation from 1911. Wee Kimball, finishing his term as secretary of the Alumni Association, spent some time worrying as to the success of the dinner, an utterly futile occupation, as whatever that little guy starts he finishes to the queen's taste.

Louis Hall inscribed his name on the register one day,, en route to Washington and a job with Herb Hoover, I understand. Next stop, Paris.

Bob Morrill is a fairly frequent visitor. Bob is revolutionizing the paper industry with some sort of a product that does something or other to something else. Don't blame me for this lack of information, I'm not sure Bob knows himself.

George Morris, in town for an Alumni Fund dinner, stopped in with a lot of red-hot dope on the selective process, and for breakfast with Chub Sterling, the Machiavellian advertising man. Herb Uline, no taller than when in college and no broader, was here for a week. Didn't see much of him, as he was busy with a string of sales conferences, but he's returning in March, threatening to bring a box of poker chifis for a reunion of the old Crosby House league.

Ky Byrnes joined the Club last week. The brothers Steeves, still wielding a mean no trump hand, grace the card room quite fre-

quently. The rest of the local crowd for the most part, are regular habitants.

Rumor has it that Slim Eaton and wife are sojourning for the winter in Mediterranean and other European ports.

Secretary, Prof. Burleigh, Hanover, N. H.