Class of 1912

TWELVE UP

Your class secretary, being on high seas at the time this has to be written, left orders with Ray Cabot to cover the March issue—so here goes!

Twenty-one of the class were present at the alumni dinner of the Boston Association at the Copley Plaza on January 28. While there probably is elsewhere in this issue of the ALUMNI MAGAZINE a detailed story of the dinner, those of us who were there won't easily forget the thrill of the message from Hanover. With lights dimmed, and the simple words of introduction by the toastmaster, "Vox Clamantis in Deserto," Dean Neidlinger, spoke to us from Hanover. Over a modern long-distance loud-speaker and telephone hook-up his voice came to us from the tower of the Baker Library, then followed the "Winter Song" and "Dartmouth Undying" sung by the Glee Club, and the chimes or bells in the tower rang out "Men of Dartmouth." "Hoppy" was in particularly good form, and #hile Henry Hilton spoke of days before our time, some things he said brought back memories of Dr. Tucker—and the story of Dartmouth's coming of age.

Those of the class present were Lyme Armes, Ray Cabot, Fletcher Clark, Ralph Farnum, "Queech" French, Hal Fuller, Bud Hoban, Ben Hunt, Bug Knight, Mort Kyle, Roy Lewis, Rollie Linscott, Click Morrill, John Park, Ralph Pettingell, "Pud" Pond, Connie Snow, Doc Viets, George Wallburg, Ralph Whitney, and Caesar Young.

At one of our tables each man was asked to write on a slip of paper the name of another man in the class whom he would most like to see back in Hanover next June, and each one pledged himself to contact that man—there were no "repeats," and though it was a friendly party, no one of those present was named and the eleven at the table each agreed that there was something in the idea—l'll let you know later, June 12, whether it works.

Stepping out of the role of writing notes, it seems to me that the success of our reunion will depend not on the number of men we get because of any appeal made to a sense of duty, but rather will this success lie in the pleasure of coming back to Hanover because of the old friends we want to see and who want to see us.

Now that leads to something else—perhaps a job was wished on your scribe to help get the reunion under way, but when you know something like seventy letters and "questionnaires" have already come back in the little over three weeks (this is being written February 9) since Lyme Armes' letter went out—there's something to tie to, and you can only guess at the thrill there is in reading some of these letters.

To quote more than snatches from a few of the letters might give too many ideas to those whose letters haven't yet come in, but you can bet that the stories of the men of 1913 are as interesting, show as worthy a record of accomplishment, and are filled with as much loyalty by graduates and non-graduates to the College and to one another as any class has ever shown.

Again and again in these letters is there mention of some incident that has come back to the individual, as fresh in his memory as though it had occurred but yesterday—usually some experience shared with another "Twelve" man.

Then, too, if you could read, as you can some day, what the College has meant to men of our class, and of what they have done, you would and will realize that though "twenty-five years out" is a long span—a quarter of a century—yet the men of the class do "have the still North intheir hearts and the hill winds in theirveins."

So just catch the message from a few that I've picked at random—

"Be seein' you next June—the Spirit of Old Crosby—"

Jimmy Oneal-Pasadena

"I owe more than I can every repay toDartmouth."

Hug Lena

"Being a Dartmouth man means that Iam allied with the most closely united bodyof humans in this selfish and harsh oldworld."

Charlie McCarthy

To Syd Clark, writer and world traveler, yet his greatest pleasures axe—"Meetingwith Dartmouth men unexpectedly in aforeign country." (How significant to him particularly those words—"tho' round thegirded earth we roam, her spell on us remains.")

I take just one paragraph from Doc O'Connor's splendid letter—

"I know that we are all anxious to haveevery member of the class back for ourTwenty-fifth Reunion. It's not the last one,but it is the biggest Reunion. Althoughevery day we are all victims of propagandaof one kind or another, I don't believethere is much point in using the oldtimemethods to get the boys back. I am a firmbeliever that if there is called to their at-tention the fact that we are having our big-gest Reunion and they sit down and lettheir thoughts run for a while there willnot be any need of urging them to returnto Hanover—."

And here's one from "Ole" Ahlswede in California—

"25 years is a long time when we are sofar away, but we'll see you all in June—." And here's a happy memory from John

Randerson—

"Close your eyes—can't you see the ciderjugs on the window sills—the cider 'wagon'with students filling their jugs—and hereand there one of the boys with a jug poisedhigh in the air on right elbow—head turneda quarter turn and swigging the jug's contents—."

Stan Weld writes—

"And then I take my boys up there as Idid last winter and go out over the samehills with them and recall events whichhappened 25 years ago—it is almost likebeing back there again—the inspiration ofthose hills and of Doctor Tucker's memoryare beyond description—."

In lighter vein-

Dick Remsen is still boasting of the time he knocked out Alvi Garcia in College Hall.

Jim Erwin writes—

"Constant association with Dartmouthalumni and frequent visits to Hanoverhave kept me young—." (Jim has only missed two Commencements since 1909.)

Here's one from Jack Fox in Pittsburgh— "lf you need further details [this at the end of a swell letter] see me when I arrivein Hanover in June, probably accompaniedby Warren (Chief) Wheeler in an expansive mood."

Chet Newcomb has done his bit too, as the following bears witness—this from his letter—

"In my plodding along the road, honorsand distinctions have been few and far between, that is except for one thing and forwhich I anticipate being given due credit.Even at this writing, I lay claim to beingthe father of approximately six children, astatement I hardly expect a Boston Cabotto take at face value. So you see that whilethere may have been a dearth of personaldecorations, I can't be charged with havingbeen inactive."

To Tommy Thomas, his big moment— "When Dartmouth beat Yale."

Windy Gale—

"My biggest laugh was when Craven letme come back in the fall of 1909—I don'tknow whom it was on., but can't imaginethe last 25 years without the Hanover back-ground."

"Click" Morrill—president of the Dartmouth Club of Wellesley—has a good word:

"Let Kipling say it in his poem 'The Explorer'; as I recall it's something like this—

'Something hidden, go and find it!Something lost behind the ranges-Lost and waiting for you! Go!' "

But Sam Hobbs has gone him one better with an original poem written to Dick Plumer, a part of which is as follows:

"Enclosed eight dollars, I've been laxAbout my dues, and now a tax!You might have called that item fee—Or don't 'tax' fret you,—it does me.

"However, 'Soak the Rich' they say,And if the wealthy guys should payThe thing to do, upon my honorIs—get the jack from Doc O'Connor.

"No, Dick, I'm really not so tight,I feel like this on Monday night;I'll sing a different kind of tuneIf I can just get back in June."

And to conclude this part of the class notes read this, the last paragraph in Jogger Elcock's letter.

"I am way off the beaten path, but Ihave plenty of room for anyone who wouldever like to spend a few peaceful days. Youwon't have any subways, elevators, streetcars, or buses, but anyone of you whowould like peace for a few days, comestraight here. I have most excellent quarters where you can be absolutely alone, noone will even speak to you unless you desire. I am quite certain that there are someof you to whom this would appeal. I knowfrom my years in New York just how muchit would mean to some who are living under the strain of the big city. I am gladto be away from it all, and I know howmuch it would mean to many to just havethe opportunity to sit down and thinkthings over a little bit. To any such a mana cordial invitation is extended to visit mehere."

The above extracts are only a few—for to recite too many of the details would be to take away from the pleasures that will be ours in June.

But we all must help—so if later you get a follow-up notice or card, help your committee, as have the seventy or more who have already answered. So far only four letters have been returned—if anyone knows the correct addresses of any of the following send them along promptly, as we don't want any man of our class to be "forgotten"—

Harold A. Thompson

Willard H. Edwards

Samuel S. Stevens

John A. Cronin

This issue of the ALUMNI MAGAZINE, as well as the next three issues, will go to every '12 man. We hope its messages will bring you back in June.

IMPORTANT:

Make your reservations direct to Hanover—Fayerweather and South Fayer- weather have been assigned to our class— (though we're not supposed to burn them down).

Yours for 1912's Twenty-fifth,

RAY CABOT.

P.S. Detailed notice regarding reservations, program, etc. will be in next issue.

Secretary, 298 Fingerboard Rd., Fort Wadsworth Staten Island, N. Y.