Class of 1914
NEAR SENATOR RESCUESPRESIDENT AIDED BY COAST GUARD
For the want of a nail the shoe was lost. For the want of a shoe . . . hence the trade winds. For the want of a few votes a certain United States senator-elect failed to receive the necessary confirmation and become a playfellow of Huey Long. But this turn of fate became a cellophane- wrapped blessing, as you shall see.
Bill Slater is a chap of many parts, successful in business, elevated by his college class to its respected presidency, and above all perhaps outstanding in the homely virtues of ideal pater-familias.
Sundays in the Slater family are dedicated to the children. Frequently, short journeys are made to the suburban Roger Williams Park, where the several juniors are treated to pony rides, to feeding squirrels and deer, the while acquiring from their parents valuable hints concerning nature study which aid them in their school work.
Occasionally longer trips are undertaken. One in particular will long be remembered. They would all go to Narragansett Pier and watch the wild waves driven on a winter wind.
The sun and sea were gorgeous and the family romped up and down the beach. Parties of gay youth tore up and down the sand in cars and the Slater young ones begged Daddy to do likewise.
Proceeding from his parking place, Bill noted that a carefully followed track led from the road to the water's edge. This he too followed, but forced to turn aside to pass a pedestrian, he suddenly had no traction, felt himself slipping, and before he realized the true significance of the situation the car was in to the running boards.
A garage man was summoned, but he too was helpless. In fact, he told Bill that twenty feet below already was one Buick in this most treacherous quicksand. Mean- while the tide turned inward and ever so quietly and slowly the big Slater sedan began to sink.
What's to do about it? Profanity and prayer. The tide kept rising; the car kept sinking. "Hey, Barnes," a passing kid yelled. Bill turned—"What's your last name?" "Jones"—we'll call him. "Go tell your old man Bill Slater is sinking."
The boy legged it toward the beach house and reported the catastrophe to his nearly senatorial father.
"Let him sink," quoth Dad. "They are getting wet"—the boy urged. "What of it? Tell him to come down and I'll buy a drink."
The boy's persistency finally won. The rescuers, sensing the situation, summoned the Coast Guard, which came with sandanchors, tackle, and miles of rope. The car was made fast. All tugged, other cars hitched on and the Slater sedan popped out.
The Slaters piled in and started home- ward stopping, of course, for the promised drink.
Next Sunday the children fed the squirrels in the park.
RED'S NO FIGUREHEAD
Even when stated editorially, this simple admission left unqualified would stir to wrath each and all of the hundreds of those who know Red Loudon.
Apparently the Vikings take their hockey seriously out in the rugged Northwest, where the lovely falls of Minnehaha separate Minneapolis and St. Paul into east and west with strong men and the usual results. Introduce a Scotchman into a flock of surging, sweating, and swinging Scandinavians and you have the picture. The story ends like the reputed origin of the word "Minnehaha" . . . "Minney" for Minneapolis and "Ha Ha" for St. Paul.
Breathless as you must be by now, we'll let you in on the story reprinted from the Minneapolis Tribune o£ February third.
The article is accompanied by a photograph taken when the pompadour was in its pristine growth, which, as we look back, was really not so long ago.
PAUL LOUDON PROVES REAL LEADER
"The National Hockey League thrivesbecause Frank Calder rules with an ironhand.'
"The Central Hockey League will thrivefor the same reason as long as it chooses tokeep Paul Loudon as its head.
"Loudon means to keep the game cleanand free of 'rowdyism,' and he will go toextremes to keep his 'house in order.' Hesounded a warning to unruly players inthe Central Hockey League Thursday whenhe suspended Oscar Hanson, center starof the St. Paul sextet, for the balance of theseason for his attack on Referee EddieOatman at St. Paul Tuesday night duringthe game between the Millers and Saints.
"A less fearless man than Loudon wouldhave hesitated in suspending a star playerof Hanson's type for half a season. ButLoudon is not one to do things in a half-hearted manner.
"Loudon was a witness to Tuesday'sregrettable affair. He was incensed, andsuspended action on the player only untilhe received a complete report from thereferee on the entire incident.
"Such severe penalties impress on theminds of the players that Loudon is morethan merely a 'figurehead' in the CentralLeague."
'14 IN FRISCO
This February morning, when a typical New England blizzard seems in the making, we are moved to recall the charms o£ sunny California by contrast if nothing more, and incidentally to mention three of our brethren whose activities out on the coast have been far too long hid under a bushel.
HERB GRIDLEYThe Big Salad and Stew Man
Traveling westward from Chicago via the Southern Pacific, the long arm of Herb Gridley reaches out a couple of thousand miles to meet you on your first experience in the diner. Herb, by the way, is chief commissary for this railroad, and to those of us who inhabit the Atlantic seaboard there are many pleasant experiences in dining car management west of the great Mississippi.
Two of Herb's innovations have brought him immortal fame. At luncheon he inaugurated a glorious French concoction which reaches the sublime,—a savory stew served in an immense French pottery casserole, from which the diner helps himself and eats to his heart's content.
The other is the salad bowl, which, like- wise, is typically French. This huge bowl comes on the table accompanied by wooden serving spoons and forks, and the general effect is satisfying, to say the least. In fact, Herb seems to thrive on his own table, at least he must weigh one hundred pounds more than when we knew him. From his office in San Francisco he directs the far- flung culinary problems of the railroad.
ELMER ROBINSON The Carpenter-Advertiser
It was great to see Elmer again and to find that his point of view hasn't changed a bit since leaving Hanover. The same smile and carefree but serious attitude toward life make him a wonderful dinner companion.
Since leaving Rochester, Elmer paused for some years in the Southwest in an efEort to relieve climatic difficulties for a member of his family. He moved on to San Francisco, where he re-established an advertising business and has a delightful home at San Mateo, a pleasant commuting distance from the Golden Gate, where from the towering hill he can observe for miles the glorious California panorama.
His home is particularly interesting in that Elmer has adopted some of the New England colonial motivation of paneling, and so forth, to California, but substituting redwood. The effect is startling but very pleasing. We were surprised to learn that he had turned carpenter. He took us about the house, showing us various pieces of furniture which he had built from native woods with all the grace and touch of a professional cabinet-maker.
Mrs. Robinson regaled us at dinner with Russian "boertsch," into which she put much of the tradition of her native land. Never have we tasted anything like it, and if Elmer and Madame come to the twentieth reunion, we shall do our very best to have Mrs. Robinson make it available for all of us.
A most delightful evening, Elmer. We hope to come again soon.
BILL WASHBURNScintillating Surgeon
Here is one of the busiest men of the whole class. Bill stands absolutely at the height of his profession on the Coast. An idea of his busy practice may be indicated by the twelve hundred of major operations he has performed in a given year. In addition to his regular practice he is on the Staff of San Francisco's larger hospitals, and acts as a high official, likewise, for one of the railroads in its medical and accident-prevention work. Meeting him casually, one would never guess the enormous ramifications of his work.
Bill has a delightful home, looking out toward the Presidio and the Golden Gate. It is a marvelous spot.
We spent an evening with Bill and Herb Gridley, doing several clubs of which they are members. Club nights in San Francisco, we are convinced, should be undertaken only with careful training, and we advise any Fourteeners contemplating a visit or two to lay up three good nights' sleep at least and to eat little or nothing and to abstain from all liquid nourishment, because when you are entertained by these boys you are entertained—what we mean entertained!
If we could rub an Aladdin's lamp this morning we could think of no more perfect day than breakfasting on one of Herb Gridley's dining cars; an afternoon on one of the many golf courses around San Mateo with Elmer; a lunch exemplifying Mrs. Robinson's marvelous cuisine; and an evening with Elmer, Herb, and Bill. Fourteen in Frisco! May their shadows never grow less!
"Chuck" McLaughlin, bald and sober, was seen in Boston one evening lately at a stock and bond traders' dinner, which indicates that Chuck may have some left— or had some up to the night of said dinner. Florence Sullivan, we hear, has become associated with Gertler, Develet, & Co. in Providence, making one more broker there. Best o' luck, Sully!
John Burleigh advises that we all should get out the can-opener and start to pry off the lid of the Alumni Fund subscription. Dartmouth has seen a dozen depressions come and go. Save your dimes, brothers. Littles help lots!
Secretary, 16 Grove St., West Medford, Mass
