Class of 1902
Of course I shivered as did the rest of you during our cold spell, and all the time I couldn't help laughing at myself, born in New Hampshire, brought up in severe winters, a history of seven Hanover winters in my past, and now when the thermometer begins to get in the mere vicinity of zero I start to get cold feet and the other accompaniments. And some of you fellows will say "Ah, old age creeping on." It isn't that in my opinion, but just softness, physical and mental. None the less, I got quite a kick to read, as you did, about young Warren Chivers and his fine skijumping at the Carnival. Perhaps some of you thought that the Chivers boys would put in all their spare time in the biological laboratories, but that's because you have forgotten something about Hanover winters, and because you don't know the boys.
And about this time along comes a letter from Julius Arthur, in which he tells me, casually like, how much they are enjoying the Hanover winter. Perhaps that long residence at Beirut has helped much to make the present scene the more enjoyable.
For some time I have been wondering how our business men are faring. They have been keeping mighty quiet, and that has a rather ominous significance. Still I didn't think that they had just faded out. At any rate, you will be glad to hear that some of them can still show fire and determination. Under the letterhead of Parry and Rose, Inc., real estate brokers and appraisers, Gus Parry makes several worthwhile contributions:
"I have delayed writing until I hadcheering news, but after four years I realizethat some word now will be better thanattempting spirit messages in the future."
Right you are, Gus, I hadn't thought much about it, but my medium or control or whatever the machine is that puts you en rapport with the otherwise non-communicative has not been in good repair, and I don't think now that I'll ever be able to get it fixed. Anyway, it's a lot more comfortable to be able to quote the words of a hardworking live man than to attempt the interpretation of subtle messages which require more skill in translation than Horace or Livy.
"First, I have a wife, daughter in highschool, and a son not yet old enough toknow that a depression is on and whothinks that eating roots and herbs is aregular diet.
"Please don't ask about business. I willjust say that I antedated Great Britain sixmonths in going off the gold standard andhaven't yet balanced the budget.
"Now for something constructive. Whynot get the president of the College andthe trustees to use better ink when they signthe diplomas? I have my great-grand-father's here signed by Johannes Wheelock in 1808, and all signatures perfectlylegible. When I flash mine on the savantsvisiting me they all exclaim 'Why the helldidn't they sign it?' Quite embarrassing."
You gave me a shock, Gus. Perhaps I was in the same fix, so I ransacked the house to find if I had any visible evidence that I once had a college education. Finally I found the diploma tightly rolled up and carefully laid away in a place no one would think of until he had looked every- where else. Slowly and fearfully I unrolled the precious document, which I had not viewed for years. I can report that the signatures are still there, although some- what faded, yet as to legibility the best I can say is that probably the signatures of some of the trustees are as legible as they ever were.
However, here's a constructive criticism and one worthy of all attention. But I think it's an opportunity of another sort as well. Obviously we all expect that whatever else the college trustees may do it is their first duty on receiving the ALUMNIMAGAZINE to turn to the 1902 notes and read them carefully. So here's our chance to check up on them. You see it's the same situation as that in which the old lady left her Bible to her favorite but worldly nephew. He didn't discover for twenty years that the old lady had inserted a one-hundred-dollar bill about every five pages. Quite embarrassing.
Our class records show very little which I could use in the brief note in the February issue which recorded the sudden death of Elton Corse. It is a great privilege this month to add some facts from a letter received from Mrs. Corse, who is now making her home with her sister at 1035 St. Luke St., Montreal. I know that you will all appreciate her effort, and I hope that some of you will express to her that appreciation.
"Elton had lost two brothers from hearttrouble. It was inherited, I suppose, but hewas spared the knowledge even that he hadit. He was standing up with me in ourgarden in Santa Monica when he suddenlyfell to the ground and passed away immediately. I returned to the East, bringingmy husband with me, and on the tenth ofAugust he was laid to rest in Richford, Vt.,his boyhood home.
"Elton was a great reader and thinker,and an interesting talker. We had manyfriends in California, and I used to say thatI was jealous of Elton because I would hearpeople speak of liking him so much. He.was passionately fond of his roses andfruit trees, in fact of all growing things.Although he began to play golf rather latein life he played a very good game. Fouror five years ago we had the pleasure ofseeing Mr. and Mrs. Guy Abbott in SantaMonica, and the men had a game of golftogether."
We can add this gratefully to our picture of Elton, and rest assured that in his family life and in his community he played an honest part, exactly as we expected that he would.
As I have said before, it isn't good to use space to tell about myself, but I know you all appreciate my feelings in regard to the silent but certain passing of time. For years I have had men in my classes whose brothers I had taught earlier; in fact before I left teaching at Dartmouth I had classroom contacts with men whose brothers were in my own class, and I thought that I was well adjusted to the matter of the reappearance of family members. I got a jar some years ago when I found in my class the son of a man with whom I played baseball in high school, but it almost put me on the shelf this year to discover that at least three of the boys in one of my classes were sons of men I had taught here at Columbia. That's a very lively sort of reminder that the years are passing swiftly by.
Probably before this gets into print we shall all have heard from Guy Abbott with reference to an important though perhaps difficult matter. Here's to the idea that we all try to make his job as easy as possible. There's no question at all about our willingness, but as to our ability it's not exactly the same. However any class agent who can show approximately a 100 per cent of contributors is a master mind. Let's do what we can to put him up with the topmost on number of returns at least.
And by the way, I was looking over some of his old reports the other night, and I found that you write to him in larger numbers than you write to me. I hardly dare to draw conclusions from that, but if it means that some of you never write to anyone unless you enclose a check perhaps I would have better luck with you if I told you not to write to me at all except upon oblong sheets torn from your check book.
I told you last month about Eddy and his lonesomeness at the dinner of the New York alumni, but this is the first chance I have had to acknowledge the receipt from him of that dinner card bearing Dean Laycock's photograph. Thanks, Eddy, for your kindness. And in passing let me remark that a man who can carry the load of a college dean with the serenity and ability of our friend deserves all the honor and praise we can bestow. Some of you fellows know how much peace and quiet you gave to our Dean of blessed memory. Now multiply all that by three or four, and tell me what chance a modern dean has to enjoy the so-called academic seclusion. Of course there are those who rate all college administrators are unnecessary or at least as occupying merely honorary positions, but one who has seen a bit more of the inside of the true situation knows full well that a good dean is one of the busiest men on earth, necessarily one of the most human, and withal a great factor in the success of his college.
With the passing of Maurice Duncklee the class loses its last active ordained minister. I use the word "active" in a sense to indicate occupancy of a regular pastorate, since Harrison is quite active in directing church work in the wide community he serves in Oregon. My remarks just a year ago with reference to our ministers seem to me now to have been all but too late a tribute to those men of the class who have served in a very personal way to help the world to better things. On the surface we have not given our preachers their due, yet deep in our hearts we have nevertheless respected their work and admired their courage and their fortitude.
Maurice Duncklee was deservedly popular in a region far larger than his parish, in fact I doubt if he ever strictly bounded his parish. His loss will be felt for a long time in that community which he last served so well. We, his classmates, honor him for his sterling qualities and his faithful service to mankind.
Secretary, 130 Woodridge Place, Leonia, N. J.
