Class of 1929
Do you remember what you were doing twelve years ago—besides wearing a green cap and trying to avoid those devilish twenty-eighters and their sophomore prerogatives? Do you remember with whom you used to eat at Commons, who roomed down your corridor .... what gang rode down to Boston with you on your first Harvard game week-end? What has become of them all? Well ... .
Jack Loucks roomed in 30 Hitch with Tuck. Tucker. Jack is now a salesman for C. I. Catz Special Advertising Agency, 500 Fifth Ave., New York, lives in Flushing. Tuck is with an investment counsel firm in Boston.
Phil Mayher roomed in 43 South, next to Lyt Johnson and Irving Hanssmann. Phil (married about a year ago) is with the Kendall Mills, having progressed from the mill in Rhode Island to the New York office, and now to the St. Louis office, 1331 Syndicate Trust Building.
Tux Small lived in 55 Wheeler with Jake Jaquith. Tux is now an accountant with the New York firm of Pogson, Peloubet and Cos., 25 Wall St., lives in Chatham, N. J. Jake lives in and practices law out of Clinton, where he has established a law office that has already gained him a fine reputation and is making him a ranking member of the Worcester County bar.
Tenny Hesselman lived in 29 Richardson, is now a buyer for Consolidated Edison Cos. of New York; lives in Flushing.
Hank Schutte lived in 36 Wheeler alongside Leslie Townsend and Clyde Alderman. Hank is a chemical engineer with the Lummus Cos., 420 Lexington Ave., New York; lives in Westfield, N. J.
Nat Barrows and Molly Bott roomed together in 13 South Fayer. Nat now buys wool in Albuquerque, N. M., and Molly spins it into textiles in a mill somewhere in Connecticut.
Red Clifford and Dick Barrett roomed in 22 South Fayer. Red is office manager of Hathaway Bakeries, Inc., Salem, Mass., and Dick is practicing law with one of the large New York firms.
Frank Muhling had a room at 41 South Main St. He now is a silk manufacturer in New York and lives in East Orange, N. J.
Bob Sprague was another Wheeler boy —up in 30 with Jack Moxon. Bob is now consulting engineer with Mackay Radio and Telegraph Cos., Brentwood, Long Island.
Bob Leigh and Walt Sherwood roomed in 18 Reed, with John McNamara next door. Bob is now with the National Carbon Cos., Pottsville, Pa., is married and has a one-year-old daughter, Patricia.
Eddie Kennard roomed in 11 Wheeler. Now Eddie is an anthropologist, and a member of the Department of Anthropology, Columbia.
Bob Carr lived down at 9 West St. He is living in Hanover again, this time as an instructor in the Department of Political Science with an office in Thornton.
Beau Ehler and George Steers roomed in a2O Topliff. Beau is now a physician on the staff of the University Hospital, Ann Arbor, Mich.
Larry Paisley roomed with Ralph Ardiff in 43 Fayer. Larry now teaches social science at the Spencer Central School, Spencer, N. Y.
John Stigall lived down in 20 South; now he is a lawyer with the Resettlement Bureau, Washington.
There were probably many more, but these six are the only recent weddings that came to notice—each one, however, a high class affair:
Jack Knight married Clara Jaffray Reese of Yonkers, N. Y„ on June 22 in the Wheaton College chapel. Jack is a doctor on the staff of Faulkner Hospital, Boston.
Ed Felch married Roberta Lee Brewer on April 10, in Chatham, N. J.
Bob Cate married Leona Myrtle Cowes, May 22, in New York.
Bill Keyes married Marianne Blanchard June 25, in New York.
Al Bellerose was married to Gertrude Louise Seeley, in Rutland, Vt., August 2.
Ichie Little married Martha Gilliner Carson on August 11, in Germantown, Pa.
A sister graduating in June at Wellesley brought Jack Hubbard up this way, and provided the occasion for a visit. Jack is married (very successfully, methinks), is in the mortgage business with his father and brother Maurie.
Other summer visitors were Al and Mildred Cooley, all the way from Buffalo. They both appeared fit and in good spirits. Al is a Ford dealer, and from all reports, Cooley to the contrary notwithstanding, he has one of the biggest and best agencies in northern New York.
Just the other day Mr. and Mrs. DwightAllen dropped in for a short visit. Dwight is in the insurance business in Springfield. He married Stella Sutermeister in June, 1935, and has two daughters, Linda, born May, 1936, and Hamilton, born April, 1937.
Other family news concerns Bob Monahan's son, Robert Ernest, who was born in Laconia, N. H., March second.
Merrill Beede, writing from the Washington, D. C., office of Aetna Life Insurance Company, says:
"I have done a lot of rattling aroundsince I left school, and finally ended downhere as cashier. Just got transferred fromPoughkeepsie a month ago, and if I do sayso, the job keeps me busy, but it is a fairlydecent one. March 6, 1937; I marriedKatharine S. Thompson, from Poughkeepsie and Vassar '2B. That will keep you upto date with my vital statistics.
"Can't give you much dope about theclassmates, as I don't see any of them. Bob Tunnell was married about three weeksago in Nyack, N. Y., to a girl from there,but I don't recall her name."
Albion Ross is with the Berlin office of the New York Times. Under date of July 13, from Kanonierstr.i, Berlin WB, he wrote as follows:
"I came to Europe early in 1931, when the crisis was squeezing all the beginners out of New York, where I had a job on the Evening Post. The first three years over here were the most fun. I worked for H. R. Knickerbocker, who is everything dramatic that a story book foreign correspondent ought to be. The spring and summer of 1933 and the summer of 1934 after the blood purge were also quite a show. The rest of it has been more or less routine, like everybody else's job. Down to the office in the morning and back at night, with the food getting slightly on your nerves in a country that is trying to feed too many people on too little acreage. "Life was more pleasant for foreigners before the brown shirts came, though probably not as interesting, at least to newspaper readers. You get rid of any idea that freedom is an abstraction when you get to a regimented country. Slowly the lack of it gets into your bones. You can fight off the feeling of being in a cage part of the time, but it gets you in the long run unless you become an expatriate. The Germans themselves do not of course mind a great many things that jar on the foreigner. In general they are fairly contented. They have the sense that they are now getting their innings on the rest of Europe after receiving what they considered a raw deal after the war. We might feel the same way and sacrifice a good deal in the same situation.
"Hitler has become a sort of demigod, even for those who do not like the National Socialist set-up. Every German regards him as a genius and a great orator. For Americans he may be a genius, but he is not an orator. If you have dipped into *My Struggle' you'll see what I mean. He piles up phrases in heaps, and they mean pretty nearly nothing to us. But they touch all the chords in the Germans, who are wrestling with a sense of frustration that I suppose is the result of taking such a tumble just as it seemed as if they were going to establish undisputed leadership in Europe.
"Above all, the Germans want to be big shots. Excusable enough, but rather uncomfortable for their neighbors. If they can accomplish it without war, they will be content. Just what will happen if they are blocked no one can say. No European, except possibly Mussolini, regards war lightly. The present generation has had all the gunpowder it wants for a long time to come.
"The Germans in general now feel that they are getting places. As long as they keep on feeling that way there will be no fighting, but they may stop when somebody says you can't have 'that' and what the particular 'that' will be will determine what's going to become of Europe. There is no bluff about the brown shirts any more than Sparta was a bluff.
"My own feeling is that the more we have to do with Europe the more trouble we are going to get ourselves into. Who's right and who's wrong in this scramble over here is something we had better stop thinking about unless we want another 1916."
Secretary, 75 Federal St., Boston
