Class of 1931
Well, the 1931 class-baby contest seems to be in full swing! To date we have received entries from parents and friends of parents, accompanied by no little amount of excitement and enthusiasm. Can anyone better the claim of Mr. and Mrs. Jack Ewing, who brought a brand new '31er into our midst on October 17, 1931?
Perhaps some of you may wonder why the material in this column is frequently a month old before it gets in. So that you won't put too much of the blame on your scribe, let it be known that your boy friend here has to forward all the dope to the printers by the 10th of the month preceding the month of issue. Catch on? It's just a hint that mail around the first of the month is most timely, and, of course, most welcome.
The boys out in the Windy City crashed through with a party last May, and a picnic last June, first word of which has just reached us through the World's Fairer Shorty Burr. Orchids to you, Chicago, for the get-together! Scallions to you for not letting us know about it sooner!
Reading your column in the newlyclothed ALUMNI MAGAZINE last night reminded me that I have some interestingnews of the Chicago outfit. When you lastheard from me you will recall we werecontemplating an informal dinner and gettogether. After weeks of delay we finallymanaged on May 12 to corral about 21 ofthe boys in a banquet room at the Maisonnette Russe. Among those present were:Jack Weisert, Bob Chapman, Russ Beckwith, Pete Akerlund, Bob Baumrucker,Ossie Bliss, Red Chamberlin, ChrisChrissinger, Bob Hale, Cliff Harris, ChuckRobinson, Ed Rothschild, Fred Slaughter,Jim Swift, George Uglow, Jo Watson, DickBaldwin, and myself. All in all it wastremendously successful; the dinner wasedible, the beer was not too far from near,the class movies dimly brought back pleasant memories of Hanover, and the deficitin the treasury was only $6.18. A short anduproarious business meeting followed, overwhich Bob Chapman presided desperately,but so ably that he was elected head boss°f the Chicago Thirty-Oners; Jack Weisertand your correspondent carrying off allthe other honors, the offices of treasurerand secretary respectively. We finallymanaged to stagger out around midnight,fully loaded but thoroughly hopeful of asecond banquet to come.
Later on the third Saturday in June thisorganizing genius of Bob Chapman andBob Hale brought several of the boys outfor a picnic at a swell farm near Half Day.A real rural setting; nothing but tallgrass, birds, trees, a few distinctive marksof cows that are essential to successfulpicnics, and plenty of troublesome insects.After a few rounds about the barrel, wechose up sides for a typical Old Timers'Day ball game; Hale, Baumrucker, Chrissinger, and Robinson standing Beckwith,Bliss, Swift, and myself; but as the formergroup had beaten us to the refreshments,their baserunning and batting soon becameeven more peculiar than ours, and wewon, something like 26 to 22. 'Twas amighty good picnic, as you may imagine;and an excellent omen for a series ofsuccessful banquets for this fall.
Here's a little news for the local boyswhich may serve to fill up your column. BobRyan, Jack Weisert, and Sunshine Goodwillie have just returned from Montana,where they engaged in prospecting forgold. (Can you picture Goodwillie golddigging!) Russ Beckwith is in Albany,N. Y., with an agricultural implementoutfit. Bob Chapman decided the girls onWilmette Beach did not truly appreciatea handsome lifeguard, so he's gone intothe investment banking business on LaSalle St. Your correspondent is now engagedin putting out a publication for the World'sFair here in 1933.
SHORTY.
Not to be outdone by a small town, Boss McAllister, the old insurancer, did a magnificent job for the boys in New York city. He gave us our own Shep Wolff in a most enlightening discussion of current football situations at Dartmouth and the lesser colleges. What with keeping the Brooklyn Union Gas Company under control, being a father, speeching, and carrying out a few scouting assignments for the Green, Shep certainly must find a lot of time on his hands. Incidentally, the younger Shep is strutting a green sweater with a big D on it; a gift of the Hanover football department. We may be able to get a picture of him in full regalia before long. Bill Traynor of the class of '28, who is now covering sports for the New York Evening Sun, also favored us with some more dope on football. All in all, 'twas a very pleasant evening. Here's a list of those present, together with addresses: Harry Townsend, 611 Lexington Ave., New York city; Doug Woodring, 540 Park Ave., East Orange, N. J.; Bill Benger, 1 Murchison Place, White Plains, N. Y.; Bob Sloane, 186 Riverside Drive, N. Y. C.; Kirk Baron, 533 West 114th St., N. Y. C.; Shep Wolff, 442 80th St., Brooklyn, N. Y.; Frank Hodson, 4 Hamilton Road, Glen Ridge, N. J.; Rod Hatcher, 19 Barrow St., N. Y. C.; Dick Cukor, 575 Park Ave., N. Y. C.; Charlie Mumma, 147 Halstead St., East Orange, N. J.; Mai Hallenbeck, 1096 Ocean Ave., Brooklyn, N. Y.; Dan Denham, 532 West 114th St., N. Y. C.; Ken Fraser, 21 East 87th St., N. Y. C.; Dutch Holland, 31 East 39th St., N. Y. C.; Red Gristede, 2186 University Ave., N. Y. C.; Charlie Warne, 182 Saratoga Ave., Yonkers, N. Y.; Charlie Howard, 47 Division St., Stamford, Conn.; Tom Williams, 445 Central Ave., Orange, N. J.; Dick Holbrook, 5 Huguenot Drive, Larchmont, N. Y.; Al McLean, 233 East 69th St., N. Y. C.; Jack Leuthner, 191 W. 179th St., Bronx, N. Y.; Jack Weatherley, 410 West 24th St., N. Y. C.; Charlie Schneider, 2178 University Ave., N. Y. C.; Frank McCord, 149-04 Sanford Ave., Flushing, N. Y.; Gordon Carver, 28 So. Crescent St., Maplewood, N. J.; Jim Lyall, 2 Little John Place, White Plains, N. Y.; Bill Schuldenfrei, 975 Park Ave., Plainfield, N. J.; Charlie Vetter, Pelham Manor, N. Y.; Marty Zinn, 140 West 79th St., N. Y. C.; Bill Little, 54 Deepdale Drive, Great Neck, N. Y.; Art Boardman, 12 East 31st St., N. Y. C.; Joe Merriam, 12 East 31st St., N. Y. C.; Les Klein and Ned Rosen, whose latest address we didn't get; Charlie McAllister, 342 Madison Ave., and your sec.
On the fifteenth of October, Julian Henry Richmond was married to Miss Frances Eleanor Anderson at Oil City, Pa. Congratulations, Hank.
Our class agent, harder-worker-than-whom't would be hard to find, Beanny Thorn, sends along the following:
I haven't much news—here 't is.
Ted Johnson is back at Kents HillSchool, Me., where he is running theirouting club, planning ice-boats, and tryingto keep his mind off some co-ed who insists on wearing her stockings rolled down.He is still raving about the sudden appearance of Jim Laughton and his fairer one,twenty-four hours after their marriage, stillcovered with confetti.
We were in touch with Jim Laughtonthis summer. He's at Canaan, N. H., asheadmaster of the school there. As nearlyas I can figure he shows off every morningby making Mary run up some mountainwith him before breakfast.
Joe Mullan is thinking of teaching.
Bob St. Louis is working his head off inhis dad's store fixtures business. Rog Donner is still trying to run a bank in Albany.Jim McElroy is back in Cambridge in hissecond year of theology. He had a swellparsonge and church on Lake Sunapee thissummer.
Who has the class baby, and who hasthe oldest son?
I hope the depression hasn't botheredyou much.
CRAIG.
Hudson, N. Y.
I'm getting along, thanks, Craig. All except for my disappointing episode in the voting registration bureau. I didn't vote at the last presidential election on account of being in Hanover at the time. So I snapped into line this time, but not before they tried to unsnap me. They insisted that since this was my first vote, I needed to prove my literacy. Soooooo, dot ole debil Bob Bottome ('30), my good roommate Weatherley, and myself proceeds to disclose our college degrees with no little amount of pride and indignation. Whereupon, the slug who does the registering says to us, he says, "Dey don't mean nuttin. Ya gotta go to da public school an' take a test." And the damnedest part of it was that we couldn't read the degrees either—the Latin being too much for us. Well, it certainly would have been a catastrophe, had not a white-haired old man insisted to the registrator that our evidence was sufficient proof that we could read and write. The slug and the white-haired old man continued to argue until the w.h.o.m. let it be known that he was none other than Magistrate so-and-so of such-and-such a court, and, of course, that settled it. But for a moment, it sure did feel like "what's the use?"
Despite the rather glum theme song underlying the following, Bill Benger looked as trim and glowing as I've ever seen him only a few weeks ago, so I guess it's not so bad as all that:
It was away back in the past that I gota letter off to you, and although I havevery little to say at the present time I feellike striking a few keys to see what happens. In the first place, how have you been?I haven't seen your pal there in ages, andso have no line on what you are doing oranything. Seems to me there was somechange that took place, just what was it?
Heard from Russ Beckwith and NedPitkin today. They are both busy, and Russgave me some dope to pass on to you alongwith an open-house invitation to all whopass near Geneva, N. Y., on U. S. route 20to partake of some small-town hospitality.He is starting an agency for the OlivesFarm Equipment Co. of Chicago, but thebusiness is entirely his own triumph orfuneral. His most recent conquest is theshowing of his skill at handball, pushingthe runner-up for the town championshipto the limit to win. That ought to bringhim business.
Ned is again administering education tothe receptive youth around Verona, N. J.,and from his letter it looks to me as thoughhe is greatly involved in theatricals, for heis rehearsing two plays at one and thesame time. I expect to see him at the Yalegame on the 29th. Are you going up to seethe initial triumph? Even though thescore against Lafayette looked very small Iguess we have a good team and it sure lookshopeful at the Bowl.
Understand that the regular dinnersstart next week, and that is good news. SawVic Rockhill down on Nassau St. theother day and he looked prosperous. Hearthat John Benson is in the banking business in Boston and Yank Boardman is inthe same line in New York.
The coal business is hell although thelittle cold snap we had about ten days agoyielded some business. I am almost temptedto become a salt man again, although theyall look punk at the present and one is asdiscouraging as the other. How do youfind things?
Gosh, a year ago I made a trip to Hanover and am I missing it now? SomehowI'll get back before I forget my way aroundthe place, but it looks a long way off atthe present time. Have you been backvery recently?
After months of effort I got a word ortwo from Noyes up in the wilds of Oneida.He is in the best of health, but discouragedat his business accomplishments. Well,that is not unusual. Guess that is thewrong attitude, we are all supposed to betalking prosperity, but it is hard to do,isn't it, or am I wrong?
Well, hope to see you Wednesday the19th and get the latest news. Am goingdown to get an earful of Cal Coolidge overthe radio, hope he is optimistic. Best regards.
BILL BENGER.
P.S. Forgot to say that while on my vacation this summer in Boston I saw HalAndres following the Ouimet-Sarazen golfmatch. He is one of the A & P men. I raninto Len Clark about two months ago, heis doing the Westchester area for theBirdseye Frozen Food people and said itwas fast developing into a good thing.
BILL.
White Plains, N. Y.
Nels Greenlund writes about a real experience. I, for one, envy you a trip like that, Nels.
I see in that last bulletin that JackFrisby has let me in for something nice inthe way of a letter. It seems as though afellow can have no secrets in this worldat all.
It is true that I did make an excursionto the Coast—ostensibly to get first-handinformation on the Olympic Games. However, the games were only an excuse tosee the country.
While down at Harvard Business SchoolI met a fellow with a nice, large Studebakerwho wanted company on a trip throughour Golden West. Not being able to find ajob, I gathered together all the moneythat seemed to be lying around loose andstarted off for an indefinite journey.
The upshot of it all is that we spent fiveof the most interesting and enjoyable weeksimaginable in a trip that included theRocky Mountain country around Denver,Yellowstone Park, the Columbia RiverHighway, San Francisco, Yosemite Park,the Redwoods, ten days in Los Angeles,Grand Canyon, and so to Cleveland again.
I'm too poor a hand at typing to try togo into the trip at length; I'd like to tellyou about it some time, Jack. However,there were a few things which made thebiggest impression. One of them is theColumbia River Highway. That is theprettiest ride in the country as far as I amconcerned. Next in line is Yosemite Park.By the way, never get into the habit ofkidding about the name of that place. Weall started to put the accent on the firstsyllable to get the goat of the natives. Well,the result is that the habit has stuck, andnow we have the reputation of being thecountry's worst pronouncets.
But what I started to tell you about wasthe Olympics. They were nothing short ofmarvelous. I only went to the track events,but it was more than a track meet; therewas something about the spirit of goodsportsmanship that was evident even in thespectators. For instance, at the openingceremony the officials asked the spectatorsto please keep their seats for five minutesafter the parade was over so as to give thecontestants a chance to get home withoutany traffic jams. Well, you wouldn't believeit, Jack, but out of the 105,000 people there,not a one made a pass at leaving until therequisite five minutes were up. Now, thatsort of spirit prevailed at all the events thatI went to. I can't vouch for other sessions,but all that I attended had a spirit ofsportsmanship and co-operation that waswonderful to see.
I'll grant that it is really something tosee world's records falling right and left,but you can see track meets anywhere; thespirit that prevailed at the Olympic Games,I imagine, can be felt only there.
Hope to see you at the Fifth Reunion ifnot before.
NELS GREENLUND.
P.S. I have decided to go back to schoolfor the second year and work my waythrough. The main reason for so doing isbecause I couldn't find a job that I reallywanted—in fact none at all. Perhaps it'sall for the best.
NELS.
Cambridge, Mass.
As for the following letter from Russ Beckwith, I have only one comment to make, beside appreciating your writing it, Russ. Will you tell that Baron Munchausen-O'Neill that I won't play unless he writes to me soon.
This letter is as great a mystery to me asit may be to you. Perhaps it is just anotherindication of the present so-called "Backto the Farm movement." I should certainlynever have believed anyone if they hadtold me a year ago in Chicago that a yearlater I would be opening up a small holein-the-wall tractor and farm implementbusiness somewhere in the state of NewYork. Yet it would have been the truth, forhere I am, and have been for seven weeksgassing among the farmers over the barnyard gates tearing my pants on barbedwire fences, and doing a fair job of growinghayseeds behind each ear.
It's all as strange and interesting to meas was the summer spent in Europe withHank Burroughs a year ago. It was mightyhard, for me to believe the news that Hankhad left us. I saw him last when we hadto separate in Venice. As you may know,Hank and I were fairly close to one another at school.
Since leaving Chicago I've seen only one'31er—Johnnie Williams of Rochester. Afterleaving Dartmouth he graduated from theU. of Michigan and is now studying medicine at some school in Rochester. He'sbigger than ever, and sends his hello toCharley O'Neill. The present whereaboutsof O'Neill does seem to be a problem. Oneof his letters reached me about threemonths ago, but he made it clear that itscontents were not to be allowed to filterthrough into the vicious pen of Warwick. According to the "Alumni Publications" his work is evidenced in the second issueof "Contact." They don't have such magazines in Geneva. If you find it I'll be greatlyobliged to you if you will send the storyon to me when you are finished with it.
Please extend my offer of modest hospitality to all '31ers coming through Geneva.They tell me I'm living on the so-called"Greater Broadway," route U. S. 20, andbelieve me I'll be glad to see any of them.No one could be more of a stranger than1 in this town.
My best wishes to you and the '31ersdown in the big city. Russ BECKWITH. Geneva, N. Y.
I have a real interesting letter from Bill Fenton, which the limitation of space prohibits my using in this month's column. However, you'll see it soon, I hope.
Come to think of it, when this appears it'll only be a few weeks before the Yule, and the last word before the new year begins, sooooooooo, Merriest of Christmases to you all, and most sincere good wishes for 1933.
Secretary, 410 West 24th St., New York
