Class of 1933
The annual literary urge which habitually \overcomes a large number of your classmates has lifted its winsome head this year, as usual, just in time for the last issue of the MAGAZINE. AS a result, there will be no linguistic or descriptive orgies to disturb you .... merely a welcome dose of contributions by the people who should write this column.
SEALINGS
The Boston Herald of April 24 brought to our notice two noteworthy announcements.
Dr. and Mrs. Edwin H. Parkin of Homer St., Newton Center, announce the engagement of their daughter, Miss Alice Dravo Parkin, to Mr. James Franklin Woods, widely known as the secretary of the Dartmouth Alumni Association of Boston.
September nuptials were forecast for Robert Sewell Turner and Kathryn Elizabeth Hagar, the daughter of Mrs. Albert O. Hagar of Cambridge, Mass.
The Okie-MacKechnie ceremony will be a thing of the past (May 22) by the time these notes reach you. In spite of the glowing picture which Okie has already painted of the coming rites, the Harvard Law School faculty will not have been sufficiently impressed to call off their Bills and Notes exam., and the work of doing the firsthand description will have been left to Chapman or Mackey or Smart or H. Smith or P. Knickerbocker
In spite of a recent, strong, implied denial of matrimonial intentions by the groom, Doctor and Mrs. William Joseph Pulley have had the honor of announcing the marriage of their daughter, Georgiana, to Mr. Charles James Kiger. The date was the second of May.
REDUCTIO AD STONEMAN
Our last month's notes have had an effect in the Stoneman household. Sid tells us that his wife, heartened by our reference to his tremendous girth, has prescribed a rigid training schedule in order to make him presentable for his appearance before the Mass. bar examining committee.
Sid also informed us that Julien Goell, who has been at St. John's Law School, is now working for the N. Y. State Mortgage Commission.
Bill Hoffman is our idea of the world's happiest man. We saw him on a recent expedition to Hanover and were nearly overwhelmed by his health and good humor. He is now an instructor in the Physical Education department.
Members of the class will be delighted with the news that Ford Sayre has been appointed manager of the Hanover Inn. He and Peggy and Ford Jr. have moved to Hanover and will be on hand to greet any of you who get back to Commencement. Those of us who have followed with interest the work which Ford and Peggy have been doing at the Ravine Camp will be convinced that the College has made a wise move.
CYCLOMANIA
Paine Knickerbocker erupts as follows: "Many moons (the Indian influence creeps in and out, silently) have passed since I last wrote. No one in my own particular group ever seems to take it upon himself to write, and so I, craving to see news of me and my friends, peck frantically at my literal keyboard in hopes of getting in under the dead line for the June issue.
"Kiger, I suppose the world now knows, is no longer of this barren bachelor world of ours. Last week end, amid huzzas, blowing of trumpets, and a little feverish wiping of throbbing brows, following a stag dinner party in the best tradition, we saw him off for the land of matrimony. The Immortal Hoge and I were the only '33ers present, but to the best of our hungover abilities, we carried on for the old class.
"And Okie of course gets spliced before the month is out. With these two supposed stalwarts dropping like flies by the wayside, I certainly feel we have every right to sing loudly and sadly of how the w. bells are breaking up that old g. of mine, or whatever the hell that classic ditty is.
"Klinck and I took a memorable trip to Hanover in the fall, making it, be jappers, on bicycles. This was, I believe, reported in one cool sentence some months ago, but I, thinking of my hours of strenuous pedaling, refuse to allow it to be dismissed so lightly.
"We started on the Albany night boat, after a whimsical race down Fifth Ave. with the buses who hooted and tooted in sophisticated derision. The handle bars on my wheel, a grotesque monster if I ever saw one, were about a foot wider than those fine gleaming nickel numbers of Clarence's streamlined British King of the Roads, so that my nervous attempts to follow him between cabs were nightmarish at best.
"Then from Albany to Brattleboro in one day. This included a walk up a ninemile hill, which found me at the top an unenthusiastic pedaler, I must admit. Shortly beyond the summit we found the hill went down for 15 miles, and for this reason, and this alone, I was able to battle on to Brattleboro that night.
"We made Hanover the next day, where we met Fred Kaufman, who, I then found out, had been eagerly awaiting our arrival. My wheezing labored breathing and my cheerfully squeaking rear wheel betrayed our approach, and so he came flying down the White River Road (on another fine English bike with gears) to meet us, his eyes sparkling brightly and his hands waving wildly a map on which he had planned a bicycle trip through New England. This was the last blow. My fragile legs tied up in knots, my head reeled, and seeing comfort at last, I gladly pitched over into a nearby ditch.
"Two days later, after a delightfully restful and peaceful stay, only the team and faculty were in town, we started home. Fred said that he would go to Rutland with us, and so we started out. I, refreshed and haughty on my relic, Kaufman coolly efficient in his flannel drawers and well oiled wheel, and Klinck, the Twentieth Century, clad only in the briefest of shorts. I, in true conservative fashion, did not want to catch cold, so I kept on my turtle-neck sweater and warm long trousers clamped carefully at the ankle.
"The two speed demons on the trip found out that by racing into a town they could, by yelling and clanging their bells, arouse hatred in the hearts of the canines of that town, and by the time I puffed along, sweating and wondering when we'd come to a downhill grade, the dogs would be waiting for me. My sprints through these sleepy Vermont hamlets were certainly poetry in motion. I was a sonnet on wheels, and how I'd make that old iambic-pentameter bike for boys hum!
"Kaufman left us just before the mountain, "after we had lunched in some little inhospitable village on salty canned tomatoes, warm, watery milk, and peanut butter. Then alone, Klinck and I continued, making Stockbridge the next night, and finally home, in Scarsdale, the day after.
"Lewis, to mention more of the classmates, continues in banking—carefully and analytically telling the manufacturers whom to trust and whom not to. He is now very nearly the head of the credit department.
"And Dickson continues to audit. He is more mysterious than a G-man, never being able to tell where he is working, that is, whose books he is going over. His phone calls come as a cry in the night. To get in touch with him one can merely wait to have him call you.
"I have just gotten a letter from Dick Meyer's sister, telling of a bad automobile accident in which that dean of terse comment was quite badly hurt. I'd appreciate hearing from anyone who knows any more about the crack-up, or about how Old Riche is."
TREASURER REPORTS
Lee Eckels writes from the Covington Hotel in Philadelphia. He is on the "last lap o£ the law school business" .... hopes to be practicing in Harrisburg this fall . . . . saw John Meek in April. He'll be practicing in N. Y. this fall Sam Cunningham's father died. Sam is working in a bank in Lewiston, Pa played bridge with Bill Lang and Jimmy De Haven in Pittsburgh. Former is in credit department of one of the steel companies.
. . . . Latter is chemist .... catches an occasional glance of Eddie Weidenhamer, Phil Byers, and Dave Warden, who are at the U. of P. Med. School.
Hagan, if we haven't told you, has reached Charleston, S. C., in his retreat from New Orleans, and can be found at the W. T. Grant store .... 265 King St. He doesn't like Charleston.
Ken Weeman has been seen in Hanover and in Cambridge interviewing strong physical specimens who desire to cast their lot with the same Grant Cos.
THE ALUMNI FUND CAMPAIGN CLOSES ON JUNE 30! !
Secretary, 64 Cooke St., Waterbury, Conn.
We suggest that you turn to the College News section in this issue and read the announcement of plans for informal summer reunions at the Hanover Inn. If your vacation is not fully arranged, plan on three days or a week in Hanover.
