Class of 1919
Rock Hayes and we, rivals at such things as golf and ping-pong since undergraduate days, have entered a new competition; that of seeing who can make a Brooks suit wear the longest. Rock has a slight lead on us right now, his being the suit he was married in, but it looks pretty bad and a couple of families of moths have been helping us out, so we expect to win in a walk. Besides he's in the bond business, which demands two elbows in every coat, whereas any advertising man who looks decent these days is accused of padding the art charges.
Bobby Stecher is back in Cleveland working at the City Hospital and living out on Lake Ave., which holds the world's record for high house numbers. His is something like 1689243664, which is practically the lowest one we've ever seen. Harwood Childs, who if we remember correctly has been in Europe studying, is back here as associate professor of politics at Princeton. Lowell McCutcheon is now general manager of the Frigidaire Sales Corp. and located in Wilmette, Ill. Bob Lewis, whom we just got married and neatly located in White River Junction, Vt., now pops up in Durham, N. C. Clarke Ingraham, who does things about investments first in New York city and then up state, has now come to the up-state point in the cycle and is located in Little Falls, N. Y. Harold Nichols is an accountant with Rust Craft, and living in Needham, Mass.
Paisley writes from New York that Jack Ross, recently moved there with Birdseye, has taken to the night club life as a duck takes to water. He reports peculiar behavior on a party with the same Paisley and Martin. Of course it may be true, but we ate more inclined to believe it's a case of an innocent provincial being led astray by two dissolute veterans of city night life. We are just back from New York, and our sympathy goes out to Ross. While in New York we saw Spider and Bea, who fed us with rare skill. Spider expects to go to the Penn game and the Yale game but not to the Harvard game—reports news that Jack Reilly has a new baby boy. While in the big city we dropped in to see our brotherin-law and found Hen Shields ensconced in his office. Hen is in the real estate business for himself and according to reports doing very well. We stepped out to a speak before lunch and drank a toast to the eternal damnation of Larmon, who continuously goes through town without letting us know.
Cottie, as reported in these columns, was in Russia this summer, checking up on just what goes on. We got a post card bought somewhere in Bavaria, written in Italy, and mailed from Nice. Well, things get very confused over there, and we suppose it was doing pretty well to get the post card to us at all and not his letter to Aunt Emma in Omaha. Spider and Jack saw him on his way through New York, and either to make him feel at home or to show him that New York had everything and one wasted one's time traipsing all over Europe, took him up to a Bavarian beer garden.
The good old firm of Drane and Rand is gone. At least Drane, Rand, and Clements, who made it the 1919 institution that it was, are gone. Paul is now with Hopkins, who sells suits and haberdashery over on Fifth Ave. Mai has gone with Northwestern Mutual, and will sell you some life insurance if you don't watch out. George, who has recently been in the wholesale clothing business, is now with Webber Heilbroner in charge of one of their departments. We shall miss the old place, which was one haven in New York where you could always find a welcome, a few 'lgers, a couple of amusing stories, and a place to sit down. And then too, we are still wearing the first overcoat they ever sold. Here in Boston we once in a while see Art Havlin dashing into the Chamber of Commerce for lunch, Spen Dodd stalking an insurance prospect, John Chipman trying to help out the Birdseye business in Patten's and getting fat in the process, Bob Proctor bounding down State St. with a legal look and a brief-case, and Louis Munro going round and round and round in the financial district.
Alden Crosby sent us a .little note recently about an old long-lost '19er who has opened a hotel in Salem. We've lost the note and there you are. Sorry, but it will turn up, and then we'll give you the dope. Jigger Merrill, according to the following clipping from the Boston Herald of August 4, is stepping right along in the insurance business:
"Two Insurance Men Win High Honor""Two employees of the Equitable LifeAssurance Society of the United States,Chauncey D. Merrill, a unit manager, andRichard F. Walter, an underwriter, havebeen awarded certificates as chartered lifeunderwriters, according to an announcement by the American College of LifeUnderwriters yesterday. The college, established by leaders in the life insurancefield, awards these certificates to set up aneducational standard for the profession oflife underwriting."
Secretary, 87 State St., Framingham Center, Mass.
