Class of 1914
The psychiatrists tell us that everybody has a secret passion or avocation buried deep down in the subconscious, which is apt to pop out far from the maddening crowd. One of our secret agents has just written us about one of these curious cases which involves none other than John Michaeles Piane, ski tycoon and, of course, our able class treasurer.
It seems that John is given to making up in black face and sneaking far off in the country to render negro spirituals as a part of entertainment given by some of the celebrities of Hanover to add to the culture of the hinterland. On one such occasion this summer the party visited Beaver Meadow, which you will all recall is somewhere back of Norwich and is said still to consist of a cemetery, one house, a church, and a school. However, the natives had assembled in goodly numbers, and the entertainment in question went along smoothly, the climax to which was John's first number, received with thundering applause.
Reluctantly he responded with an encore, which, for some unknown reason, did not seem to meet with the success of the first number, and, as John approached the high note in the chorus, one of the huskies, well-primed with hard cider, bellowed through the rapidly dimming mellow twilight: "Stumpy, why don't you go back anddo the fast number over again?"
John and Pauline Burleigh went on a motor trip through Nova Scotia this summer and spent an evening with the Boggs, and they report as follows:
"One of the few men in the class who is really entitled to the envy of his classmates is Squire George Boggs of Wolfville, Nova Scotia, appleman and gentleman of parts. Aside from an occasional brush with Rosey Aphis— (that's a bug, not a female)—life pursues its tranquil stream on the Boggs estate. Two orchards, geographically fifteen miles apart but seasonally a week apart, allow continuous use of the spray and picking gear, with a handy six weeks interval between the two jobs that affords a fine vacation period in mid-summer. Plentiful moose, deer, and grouse provide action after the crop is harvested and shipped, and the local streams and lakes are literally lousy with salmon and trout, and the natives don't even have to buy a fishing license. During the winter months, when the climate is even cooler than Cape Cod, but warmer than Boston, the local 'Spit and Whittle Club' meets at the Boggs manor. This organization, so appropriately named by George's good wife, Helen, had its origin during the early days of the depression, when some of the local boys retreated from the States to seek rehabilitation on their native soil. George has some grand lawn chairs in his lovely garden to show for their efforts. The arm of each is equipped with a cute little gadget that holds a glass. Any Fourteener who gets to Nova Scotia and fails to drop off for a few hours with the Boggs is making the biggest mistake of his life—and that's the truth."
We happened to see Helen Boggs in Boston the other day, and she thinks she may inveigle George into coming down to one of the games this fall.
Here is a list of 1914 men who have sons entering Hanover this fall: Emerson Barrett Hal Castle Herb Austin Fred Davidson Howard Bowman Al Humphries John Burleigh Lay Little
Jimmy Gregg tells us that at the Norwich game there were a fine bunch of Four teeners, who were envious that their offspring were not quite ready, including James Jr., who duly entered himself some years hence. We understand that Ducky Drake was surrounded at the Norwich game with seven fine looking freshmen and did not officially deny that they were all part of the family. We shall have to look into this further.
From the Bridgeport Sunday Post we learn that Ralph C. Jenkins is establishing a reputation as an educator in Connecticut. He is principal of the State Normal School in Danbury and in less than a year has become a leading factor in the several organizations of the town as well as the school.
He recounts to the reporter that he comes from a long line of educators, there being seventeen such in his immediate family, and after leaving Dartmouth he did graduate work at Yale, Harvard, and New York Universities. His most recent promotion, we trust, will be but one more step in his successful career.
One of our long-lost classmates, Al Fellows, wrote to Bill Slater some time ago. Al is a practicing physician at 45 Ohio St. in Bangor, Me., and his specialty, with which he has received considerable recognition, is pediatrics. He reports his family of three—daughter fifteen, and twin boys fourteen—in excellent health and hopes the 1914 boys, when they pass through Bangor, will look him up. We hope, too, that on one of the occasional visits to Boston which you mention, Al, we shall have a look at you.
Hal Castle writes that his son Robert is entering college this fall and will room on the top floor of Massachusetts, just across the hall from the room he and Al Tukey used to occupy. It's too bad Tuke's boy isn't along this year to complete the generation.
From the Manchester Union we learn that Caleb Niles has been appointed headmaster at Wilton High School, Wilton, N. H., the native village of our Jimmy Gregg. Caleb has been teaching off and on in Tennessee, Connecticut, and Pennsylvania, as well as holding the headmastership at Lebanon High School for two years.
We recall seeing him a couple of years ago, when he expressed the hope he could get back into educational work, and we sincerely trust that his new position will be successful in every way.
Clyf Chandler tells us he was walking down Summer St. the other day and bumped into a young-looking chap who turned out to be none other than Zotique Therrien, Clyf says he is absolutely the youngest-looking fellow in 1914.. Zete is manager of the Truck Equipment Division of Isaacson Iron Works, Seattle, Wash. He doesn't get East very often, and regretted he couldn't stay long enough to see some of the games this fall. He wanted to have his regards passed along to all the boys, and hopes they will remember to look him up if ever in Seattle.
Of course you are subscribers to the ALUMNI MAGAZINE or you wouldn't be reading this, but really not enough fellows have paid their dues, including subscription to the MAGAZINE. If you can spread around a bit the good news concerning the major improvements that have been made on an already outstanding magazine, we are sure that our experience would parallel that of other classes in greatly increased numbers of subscribers. Our own particular case, where we have shown the MAGAZINE to fellows who have not subscribed for years, they are simply amazed at the progress made since they have seen it last. Send an old back copy to someone of your buddies and let him see it for himself.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Secretary, 367 Boylston St., Boston
