Class of 1934
Having just romped through a copy of the Carnival Jacko, and being somewhat muscle-bound as a result of one of those New Haven ski trips to the frozen north, your scribe is in fine fettle, he thinks, to romp through the Hanover-minded correspondence and beat out a few wellchosen words on the class activities.
Event No. 1 of the past month, it must appear, was the advent upon the eastern horizon of Phil Glazer, who for these several seasons has been bounded on the east by the Mississippi and on the north, south, and west by the local intricacies of the May Company. Quite unexpectedly the other day a telegram arrived for Hedges, followed in a few hours by Phil and a gathering at 30 Fifth Ave. in honor of the prodigal's return. The occasion was even enough to bring Ace Baldwin over from the maze of Jersey real estate two nights in succesion, enough to prompt Stevie Meigher to cast aside his tomes for an evening, enough to make Henry Werner forget the law books and the squash courts, enough to cause Moe Frankel and spouse to desert the fireside, enough even to put Hedges on the telephone and cancel his date across the street. It can even be said truthfully that Hulsart was present, for although his eyes were focused on torts and agencies up Boston way, his ears must have cocked occasionally toward Manhattan, where Hulsart-lore was the order of the evening's smoker.
Glazer's journey east was half on business, consisted partly of a buying tour and a survey of the sporting goods store, and was followed by a transfer in the May Company from the floor to the merchandising office. And only a few days after reaching St. Louis, Phil was visited by an itinerant New Yorker, Roald Morton, on the road for the Blue List of municipal securities.
Another midwestern precinct heard from is East St. Louis, 111., where Bill Embry writes from the General Box Company. He's been in Houston, New Orleans, Louisville, and St. Louis, and soon goes to Detroit. Bill says: "It has been lots of fun,and I've met some very nice and some verystrange people, but basically I remain thesame."
Hedges hears once in a while from Joe Lehmann, who is teaching school in Isabela, Puerto Rico, and getting into fiascos with the kids, who either don't understand his English or else speak Spanish too fast. Joe does not sound too enthusiastic about his situation, but from a distance his casual mentions of rum, senoritas, and cockfighting smack deliciously of romance and stuff to us drab New Yorkers, who plough about slushy streets living on three meals a day and an occasional cigarette, Joe, like all American men on the island, is having a tough time dodging marriage, since the mothers there look upon any free white male as the answer to their maidens' prayers. Joe's letter was good. There is, however, one sentence for which we can hardly forgive him, and that is: "The scenery is indescribable."
Boston papers of recent date record the weddings of Jake Edwards and Russ Ireland. Jake, pictured with his smiling bride, the former Miss Helen L. Wyatt of West Medford, is taking the photography a lot more seriously. The couple, having returned from a trip to Bermuda and Nassau, are living in Southbridge, Mass. Russ Ireland and Miss Elizabeth M. Parker of Syracuse, were married on January ag, with A 1 Jacobson as best man. Russ is now associated with the Massachusetts Protective Association.
We men of Gotham want to remind you hinterlanders again of the monthly class dinners which hold forth on the first Wednesday evening of each month. Through the elements and the distracting influences of the metropolis we battle our way regularly to the Dartmouth Club and fill the long table with the wisdom which only the business minds of '34 can supply. But, by way of exception, since the big annual Dartmouth dinner for all classes has so recently been held, on February 27, the March class get-together will be omitted, due to the closeness of the dates. Then on April Fool's Day we will again take up the sword and follow through to the summer time.
We offer our sincere sympathy to Gordon Haverkampf, who just recently lost his father. Gordie has been doing a splendid job of keeping the Tuck School boys together in spirit by means of a monthly publication, which your columnist, although green with envy at the way the mail pours iri to Haverkampf, feels no hesitation in filching for the benefit of these notes.
In part .... John Randall safely enrolled in Michigan Law, after deciding on a legal training as the best road to the kind of job he wants Karstedt losing his grip (says Randall): "I offered him wine,women, and song, and the crazy twirp saidhe'd rather sleep." .... Ducky Gilmore telling all about his American Radiator job, which is now all water under the bridge, anyway, Ducky having joined the rest of '34 in the Bank of New York & Trust Cos. Gilmore took a sales training course of six weeks, started out bravely doing missionary and contact work for A. R. C., but soon tired of a lot of things in the outfit.
.... Walt Blood now a second assistant counsellor in the Bank, with an assistant himself Babe Shea waxing enthusiastic about International Business Machines Bert Alley running through Thompson's Spa like a shot, having worked in the cost purchase, and pay roll departments, bringing about ao% reductions in red tape Stu Campbell doing well in the investment counsel business in Boston, getting up reports on securities held by investors A 1 Seitner's store giving steak dinners for its employees, and A 1 running into Frank Parmelee, who at the time (late 1935) was in a training course for the Toledo Scale Company
And for next issue, we promise . . . . (Bet this will jump circulation) . . . . something of a listing and a statistical survey of what the class as a whole, and especially that part of it which has been a bit weak on the correspondence, has been doing for itself since graduation. If any of you delinquents have anything to add to this column's crisp comments on yourselves, if you have words of any kind, prepare to utter them now. We need you.
At the last minute arrived some news which casts a shadow over everything. It is with deep regret and sorrow that I have to report the death of Jack Risberg, in Michigan City on February 6. According to what little information I have been able to secure, Jack had not been feeling well for quite some time. Toward the end of January he became seriously ill, and passed away after only a week in bed. To those of us who knew Jack's quiet, pleasant personality and realized the high regard in which his close friends and associates held him, the news can mean only that a good man, a swell fellow, has been taken before his time. Stu Barber, in his letter, said, "Iroomed with Jack freshman year, and thereare probably a good many others who willfind the news hard to take."
Secretary, 30 Fifth Ave., New York
