Class of 1922

Tenth Reunion

Reporting the tenth reunion of 1922 is a task of double difficulty. One wishes to make the report at once a pungent summary that will refresh the memory of the 67 of us who were present and an account that will convey to the three hundred-odd not present the flavor of one of our episodic occasions.

The number that appeared in Hanover was a surprise to those who had made the arrangements. It was all very well to talk big in the preliminary announcements about the attendance expected, but there was no confidence that so many would find it possible in these times to go to Hanover. But our best estimates were just met, and it was immensely heartening to find such numbers able to convene.

It was a great reunion, a real one. With enough scheduled occasions to give it form, it afforded also hours of employment in the ancient art of aimless converse. All really enjoyed themselves—that was clear.

During Friday, June 17, the majority arrived at our dormitories, the new group of three in the new area bounded by the backs of Fayerweather row and the Sphinx tomb and the Alpha Delt house. Most came from nearby New England and from New York. Those from a distance were few enough. The six who came from long distances were Hayes (Oklahoma City), Inghram (Quincy, 111.), Ball (Flint, Mich.), Bull (St. Petersburg, Fla.), Chadbourne (Jacksonville, Fla.), and Bingham (Winter Park, Fla.). Florida thus sent the banner delegation, 60% of its 1922 citizens. (The other two are Tom Carpenter and Gus Cummings.) Stan Jackson, by hard driving, made the reunion from his home in distant Lebanon.

Through the courtesy of Mr. A. P. Fairfield, a special arrangement was made, whereby those who brought their wives were given exclusive possession of one dormitory. There were twenty such. The antlered stags were stored in the other dormitories, greatly to the enhancement of the amenities.

Those plangent playboys of jazz, the Green Serenaders, began their labors on the lawn of the quadrangle (minus one side) that afternoon. In the evening they supplied sweet and hot discords at a dance in the Little Theatre, Robinson Hall, which we shared with 1917, and (it appeared) with everybody else who wished to two-step. The dance began at nine, and ended much later than that, much.

There had been talk, you remember, of a ball game with 1927 on the campus Saturday morning. But with the coming of the sun it was discovered that the boys were really not in condition to engage with agile youngsters. There was much delay, but eventually Troyer Anderson, who became Athletic Dictator, assembled a very wobbly team, and it took the field against frisky 1927. The implements used were an indoor baseball and a bat which had a flat side. Faced with certain defeat, our boys took the field full of sacrificial love of alma mater. Anderson, fit as any historian, toed the slab, and about him ranged a squad of cripples. Watson, playing at a new position, half-way between third and home, had a bad leg. Willis on first had a bad knee. The outfielders all had bad hangovers. Nevertheless they faced down demanding youth, and most of us believe 1922 won. The best individual play was a slide by Nick Carter. Leaving the ground as he rushed slowly into first he turned his lithe body in the air and lit on his back, well beyond the base toward which he had thought he was leaping. This little mischance ripped the back out of his shirt. It is not fair to mention one player; they were all magnificent. The game was interrupted at one point to allow 1927 to exhibit its worst party manners. Merely to show how many of their men were able to get about, when we had the bases full and two men at bat, 1927 suddenly put an entirely new team on the field. That was a fair stunner.

Saturday afternoon, while the grand old seniors were having their Class Day, some of ours were golfing or motoring, while others, wiser, stayed at the dormitory. A delightful musicale by the inspired Green Serenaders rendered sweet the air, and Busher did some of his steps.

At seven in the evening we gathered at Villa Clara, near Hanover on the Lyme Road. There was a quiet little dinner. In the midst of the deafening quiet we were greatly pleased to have President Hopkins appear to spend a few moments greeting us. He talked about ten minutes, of the College, and particularly of his troubles in declining the white-haired boys of many a family, of many a school. His visit was a surprise, and a delightful surprise. Your reporter has been present at many such dinners, but this was the first time that he had ever seen a speaker obtain a respectful quiet. It was the best evidence of respect for man and office. After the President had gone, other speakers got short shrift. We did transact some business, however. By Tammany tactics Stetson put over a reorganization that makes your humble servant Secretary-Chairman of the class until next time, and Stan Miner continues as tax-gatherer. This is being done by all the classes, it having been felt that some of the old offices were decorative only. Further, the matter of selecting a new Class Agent for the Alumni Fund was referred by the class to the Fund Committee. Chick Hopkins, after ten years of work for the fund has resigned, and here we thank him for a kind of service to the College that has its only reward in the conscience.

In another part of this magazine appears the name of the new agent.

The dinner was infested by the Green Serenaders, who thumped out Dartmouth tunes in record volume. After a half hour of that, one of our deep thinkers commented to them that he thought it high time they played a Dartmouth tune. Dan Ryder '21-'22 was master of ceremonies, at times. There was no speaking, other than the talk by President Hopkins. About ten we returned to Hanover for conferences in the dormitory. The last of these reached an amicable result at seven Sunday morning, under your servant's window.

Sunday dawned neither bright nor fair, but the skies cleared before noon, and after having our group picture taken we went to Tom Dent's summer camp on Crystal Lake, near Enfield. There we spent the day, with dignity befitting our importance to the nation. There was a lot of sport, swimming, piano playing, song entuned full seemly in the nose, and divers other diversions pleasantly accomplished with the mellow aid of intransigent libertarians. We were honored by the presence of Joe Shaw 'si, who (he said) had been appointed delegate to our reunion. With wonted courtesy our boys made him feel at home, or nearby. The picnic and field day was notably successful, as why shouldn't it have been?

That evening we had a joint entertainment in the Nugget with 1917. They supplied the most of it. Our notable offering was the 1922 movie, which was run off amid cheers and gasps.

By Sunday evening a large number, desafortunadamente (as the Spanish tersely say), had left Hanover. Those remaining were a little tired from much sight-seeing.

At the Alumni Luncheon, held this year at noon Monday, instead of on Tuesday, as formerly, we had a big table. After that we saw the Green whack Vermont at the ball game. All day our numbers dwindled, which was a pity from the standpoint of such as Regan Brown and Ed Kaplan who couldn't arrive until late Sunday.

Tuesday morning some of us were there to attend Commencement. It must sensibly be regretted that more were not on hand. Commencement was held in the Bema in its new arrangement for such functions, and what little of the academic survives in an old 'un was stirred and pleased by the dignity of the exercises. Particularly pleased were we to see Bob Booth's father receive the honorary degree of Doctor of Pedagogy, in recognition of his notable work with the deaf. And to see Mr. John M. Comstock, who for years has had the editorship of such notes as these for this magazine, receive the highest honorary degree the College bestows.

During the three days above described one saw from time to time young women passing in and out of the co-ed dormitory. Wives, these were, poor things, but left for the most part to pose as widows. Drawn together by a common disaster—as the wives of Gloucester when a fishing smack goes down at sea—they did what they could to console one another, under the expert guidance of Mesdames Hamilton and Olsen. They had dinner and attended the Players show on Saturday night, and on Sunday they motored to Peckett's, Sugar Hill, for luncheon. They were very good sports in uncommon circumstances.

Now for the bouquets. Dick Stetson worked long and hard for the success of the reunion, as general chairman. Close with him was Jim Hamilton, who did the work in Hanover, a considerable chore. Oley Olsen was an able adjutant to Jim. Killy took charge of outfitting us, and produced and distributed the best reunion costume we have ever seen, a naval officer's white duck uniform, that fitted us, and looked great. Many others helped, too.

Charley Earle got out the gorgeous green advertisement, and Jib Sawyer drew the pretty, pretty pictures. Hal Green aided on the very acute problem of ginger ale, which he obtained through the Great Atlantic & Pacific Tea Company. Andy Marshall, podesta of the Boston area, was indefatigable in corresponding with reuners. The following were the gentlemen of the ensemble, and where the Little Woman accompanied will be found words so indicating: Akey, Troyer Anderson (and Mrs.), Angell (and Mrs.), Ball, Jerry Bates, Bingham, Bishop, Booth (and Mrs.), George Brooks (and Mrs.), Regan Brown, Brucker, Bruckner, Bull, Bullen, Bunting (and Mrs.), Busher, Byrne, Campbell (and Mrs.), Carleton, Chadbourne, Cohen, Cohn (and Mrs.), Cramton, Daniell, Dodd, Dwight, Earle (and Mrs.), Fredericks, Green (and Mrs.), Red Hall, Hamilton (and Mrs.), Hanlon, Hart, Hayes, Hight (and Mrs.), Holland, Hopkins (and Mrs.), Horan, Hoyt (and Mrs.), Inghram, Kaplan, Kilmarx, Leith (and Mrs.), McKoan (and Mrs.), McNamara, Malmquist, Marshall (and Mrs.), De Mesquita, Milleman, Miner, Morrissey, Moses, Oliver, Olsen (and Mrs.), Porter (and Mrs.), Robie (and Mrs.), Spenny Smith (and Mrs.), Stetson (and Mrs.), Jack Taylor, Tredennick (and prospect), Vogel, Watson (and Mrs.), Willis, Dick Wood, Harold Burnham (and Mrs.), Carter, Dow, and Jackson.

REUNION TRIVIA

Medicine must be the ideal occupation. There was a high percentage of medicos present, indicating leisure and funds, and valuable prescriptive rights. . . . McNamara and Brucker complaining from time to time from their window just above the big electrically lit 22 on the dorm that the glare was too much. . . . The Bullen and Carter cafeteria where hospitality was great. . . . Haskell Cohn very astute on business affairs. . . . Ryder and Bullen trying to laugh off the uniform situation. . . . Moses busy with his movie camera. . . . Hight, Hopkins, and Holland with heads together. . . . The Remark made by the Mayor of Waterbury (Vt.), D. F. Ryder. . . . Dick Stetson's father was the senior member present. . . . The 1922 movie as unedited. . . . The good natured son of Dean Bill who was the dormitory clerk. . . . The two New Hampshire judges, Booth and Hall, being extrajudicial. . . . Jim Hamilton's and Oley Olsen's Hanover hospitality. . . . The ageless Nig Hayes from Farthest Away. . . . The Bishop-Taylor team hard at it again. . . . The übiquitous Skeets de Mesquita, game to the end. . . . That piano standing before the dorm through the night. . . . Conferences lasting the night through. . . . The steadily encroaching line of stags at the 1922 dance. . . . Schoolmaster Byrne losing his dignity. . . . Bull and Oliver criticising the supply of paper cups, which finally led to the overthrow of the "Stetson administration. . . . Jack Dodd's admission that he isn't as young as he was. . . . The new morning pick-up devised by Holland, orange sherbet and guess what. ... At the picnic, the assiduity of the lads in dealing with the amber. . . . Miner's admission that repeal wasn't far off. . . . Assistant District Attorney Jack Inghram telling of practise in Quincy, 111. . . . Jerry Bates and Dan Daniell expatiating principles of industrial management. . . . Booth's series of speeches, impromptu. . . . Andy Marshall rushing all over the place. . . . Len Morrissey, a growing proposition. . . . George Brooks as natty as Admiral George Dewey. . . . Spenny Smith trying to get people to talk business, his hobby. . . . Ray Milleman doing something about a door that bothered him. . . . That Saturday lassitude, which was worse Sunday morning. . . . The scramble for something to eat in the Hanover hashhouses. . . . The College grounds-cops trying to keep the cars from being parked on the tender grasses. . . . The moonlight gathering on the steps of Dartmouth, to hear the band play. . . . The departures on Sunday, muted music and life too sombre. . . . Carleton rushing in all directions getting nowhere fast. . . . Charley Hutchins being called George. . . . Alec Falconer yelling from his new headquarters as bailiff of remodelled Reed. . . . The old brick terrace on New Hamp replaced by a tidy sloping grass terrace. . . . A. P. Fairfield's derisive snort when Jim Hamilton said we wanted the dorms because it was quiet down there, and we wanted quiet. . . . McNamara and Brucker should send their new addresses to the College from somewhere in Erie, Pa. . . . Bingham has become very dolcefar niente from long exposure to the Florida sun. It was his father's Forty-Fifth. . . . Joe Herren was the Most Missed Man. . . . Dick Wood is within gun-shot of a Ph.D.

Just before the reunion in June a crisis arose. It was discovered that the class film had become spoiled by moisture, and your high command was thinking of resigning, so great was his chagrin. But that great telephone executive, Stan Miner, located the photographer who took it, and another copy was obtained, at some loss to our treasury to be sure, but greatly to our relief. Dick Stetson now proposes to put our film with the Eastman Company for safekeeping. It would be very hard to assemble the cast again and retake the whole picture.

Kip Orr went to New Orleans in June, where his address is 831 St. Louis St. He spent the winter writing, at Ithaca, N. Y.

H. West's essay on Henry Williamson, published in a nice volume by a London publisher, is on sale in the Hanover bookstores. It is a fine job, and is recommended to those who have any interest in belles lettres. His biography of R. B. Cunninghame-Graham will appear in the fall, issued by a London publisher, and will be sold in Hanover. H. will spend this year at Harvard studying.

Tom Lenci was prevented from attending reunion by his work in connection with establishing a new office for his company in Philadelphia.

The Jim Martins welcomed a son, Theodore, in June. Jim is still principal of Orange High School, Orange, N. J.

This is Bunny Bunnell's new address: c/o Goodyear Tire and Rubber Co., Magallanes Landing, Manila, P. 1., P. O. Box 1456. He left the States March 19.

This is Chick Hopkins' letter to Dick Stetson, resigning his thankless job as class agent:

"June 15, 1932.

"Due to my inability to devote propertime to the annual Alumni Fund campaign, which comes during the busiestmonths of my business year, I hereby regretfully tender my resignation."

Chick has done the work for the past ten years, and if there were funds for a pension, he would deserve one.

In connection with the reunion, Jim Maze, in collaboration with Robert Benchley and Groucho Marx, suggested a finance corporation to pay expenses of the impecunious. He admitted that only Kreuger could have managed it.

Bert Hauser is responsible for the NBC broadcasts, and if you don't like them, write to him at 711 Fifth Ave.

Al Crampton, says the Boston News Bureau (courtesy of a clipping from Charley Stickney '21), has become manager of the trading department of the Boston office of Edward B. Smith & Co.

On June 14 Bob Bartlett and Miss Frances De Loid of Bedford, N. Y., were married.

From Zeke Shoup: "Through a sweeping political speech in Denver I was ableto put Nicholson in as president of theRocky Mountain Association of Dartmouth,defeating for the first time in 100 years thePsi Upsilon and C. & G. steam roller."

It is late to chronicle the birth on August 23, 1931, of Stewart Persons Stearns Jr., but our tardiness hasn't bothered that worthy.

Is Roy A. Ellis' address known to anyone? And Spike Saunders'?

At mid-year Hal Burnham got his B.A., which had been held up for the fulfillment of some requirement.

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Twenty-Two's Tenth

Secretary, 2700 Que St., N. W., Washington, D. C.