Class of 1917
Though only a small class representation appeared for the New York annual dinner at the Plaza, January 18, the enthusiasm more than compensated for the small number. By joining a group of 1916 Balmacaans we had a very lively and happy table, a splendid dinner, ending with bubbling fizz water from Rheims, and a rousing reception to President Hopkins, retiring Dean Laycock, and incoming Red Blaik. It was by far the best large Dartmouth gathering in our memory (outside of Hanover), and was preceded by an intimate, exclusive class reunion at the Dartmouth Club attended by Koeniger, Robie, Brooks, and Gilmore. Add Buck Stewart and you have the total representation at our class table, though Howard Myers was seen from a distance, and others may have been present who did not make reservations with the gang. Don Aldrich, rector of the Church of the Ascension, came around to the table to greet the boys and later delivered the invocation which preceded the evening speeches.
Our thanks and appreciation are due for the way January has brought in responses to secretarial prodding. Bob Paine, head of the Nash New England Company, living in the steadily growing 1917 colony at Wellesley, reports business for the past four years satisfactory (and is that something!) and prospects for 1934 a rosy pink; also a husky son, Richard Parmele Paine, born December 4, 1932, and growing so fast that he is already out of the baby class. Bobby, the first born, is in the fourth form at Middlesex School and is leading his class in scholarship—just like the old man. From other sources I have heard that Bobby is also well advanced in his golf, in fact, is beginning to press the old man, which is saying a lot, considering our knowledge of Bob's game Art Jopson wrote enthusiastically just after the Penn game, which he attended with his wife and Arthur Jr. Art seems to be developing the boy along the right path to Hanover, as he now can quote all the players' names, weight, and past history, which is better than most of us could do. Art was most emphatic in insisting that I extend an open invitation to you all to drop in any time at 433 Hansberry St., Germantown, Pa .—"a place is open at the dining table,also a room for the night. We are notcramped for quarters." ....
From Roger Stone, 92 Oakland Ave., Wollaston, Mass.:—"To be honest, theselines are to let you know that I am stillalive, but as things have been so quiet luithme for a long time matters of general interest are at an exceedingly low ebb. Can'teven report the arrival of any little brothersor sisters; we still have just one boy, Bill,who observed his fifth birthday last August24, and who, strange to say, in every wayseems to be entirely satisfactory. Would itbe news if someone wrote in panning theiroffspring! I haven't seen many of the boyslately; George Currier and Sam MacKillop I believe are about the last two.Was privileged to be in Hanover for a fewhours last summer, and was certainly takenaback by what met the eye, as I hadn'tbeen around for six years. If it weren't forthe old landmarks (and not even all of them survive) you certainly wouldn't knowyou were in the same place. Even the townis so different; makes you feel old whenyou consider that our 'new' postoffice isnow an A P, no less." ....
From good old Sam comes this chatty letter:
"I have been able belatedly to follow thefootball games this fall and also the controversy by means of the Secretary's bulletins which Sid kindly sends me. I got agreat kick out of a wire which some of thegang sent me during the night-before-the-Harvard-game party.
"The holiday season here is a lively one,and this year everyone is very cheerful,with quite a prosperous season behind andprospects for next year even brighter if theprice of gold continues anywhere near itspresent high point.
"In this day of air travel here, nearlyevery small mining community, even several hundred miles from any center, hasits Christmas turkeys and fancy groceriesdelivered in the last few days before theholiday. When you figure that in somecases the transportation charges run ashigh as 40 to 50 cents per pound, it makesa right high-priced bird though.
"Although I enjoy exceedingly both mywork and my friends here, I am getting ahankering to see some of the old gang;because heretofore I've always been whereI could sit in now and then with manyof them. However, if I should stay herethat long, I predict that in considerablyless than five years, someone of them willbe leaving New York by air and saying'Hello' to me here on the third day after-wards; and also in about 1938 it will bepossible for some of them to be drivingtheir car in here over pretty decent roadsall the way via Seattle, Wash. I haven'tbeen listening to any Rotary Club talkeither, because they don't go in for suchlike here.
"Maybe before that time I'll be down inyour institution, though. There are a lotof them go haywire up here, particularlyliving out in the isolated settlements—oras they say—They miss too many boats.'"
It is our sad duty to report the death of Adele Jones Baxter, wife of our President, Raymond H. Baxter. Mrs. Baxter died on January 27 quite suddenly after a short illness. Besides her husband, she is survived by one son, Raymond Copeland Baxter, and her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Charles W. Jones of Glen Ridge, N. J.
Secretary, Craig House, Beacon, N. Y.
