1934*
We're pleased to report at this time that erstwhile Bloodless Joe Dwyer will shortly be back in the bull-pen of assorted circulation, promotion, advertising, clerical workers with whom he laughingly works down at the Time and Lije building in Rockefeller Center. However, the task of getting up the class notes as his first job of the New Year looked so ominous, as well as being an arduous undertaking for his already wasted and emaciated frame, that again your last month's correspondent is your this month's meat-ball. Seriously, if we can be serious at a time like this, old S. Claus presented Marty with a handsome case of mononucleosis—which of course isn't so redoubtable a term to you hand-holders, but to us laymen means he just ain't got enough white corpuscles, and the ones he has aren't the right kind. Nothwithstanding that, Marty's temperature is back to normal, he looks fit and fine, is at his home of course, and should be up and around in next to no time at all. His liver extract treatments look and taste like motor oil, according to a recent 'phone report.
In the face of all this unpleasantness- oh, just a minute.
We're having a little get-together this spring up at Hanover—just us fellows from the class of '34—and we'd like you all to be there, if you can possibly work it in. Yes, sure, we know how busy you are. Sort of a reunion, you might call it. Enjoy yourself, play a little golf, drink a little beer, see all the guys, introduce your wife aroundnothing strenuous. All the classes have 'em once in a while. Like a custom, you might say.
Well, in the face of all this unpleasantness, we'd like to record the arrival of a lot of dandy Christmas cards—a snow scene in the Tetons from Harry Espenscheid, some linoleum block carolers from Kirk Spitler, some gaily-colored flower-venders from Mary and Mac Collins, a couple of mountaineers from Jeff Jackson, an inadept skier from Johnny Randall—what? Giving away confidences? All right, then, just the names! Marty's thanks and reciprocal greetings to Wilf Maynard, George Thomas, Long Bob Smith, Jim Dunn, Doris and Art Grimes, Ruth and Em Day, Jo and Bill Wilson, Sylvia and Bill Emerson, Bill Embry, Joe Swensson, Mary and Ed Moore.
Big news of the Grimes communication, however, was Doris' note on the arrival of Elizabeth York Grimes last September 14— which now makes it a brother-and-sister act for old Axel!
Two coast items: one from Bob Williamson, by now having severed his connections with the Pacific Coast branch of Owens-Illinois and joined up with the Connecticut Mutual. Bob reports a brief gathering of Coast '34's at the Stanford game—Wendy Williams, Maury O'Connor, Clarence Kempf, and Fred Rinaldo, with Bill Gay chiming in later on the telephone. And he regrets that Houck and Gilbert still owe him letters, and also Yallalee, if "he can get near enough to a mailbox". That goes for us, too—Bud Yallale, as you hinterlanders should know, left Lord and Thomas' advertising plant last fall to get onto a sailboat, go south, and write a novel. How and where he went, however, and how the novel is getting along, is as yet unknown.
The second item should illuminate Bob Williamson on the whereabouts of Johnny Ellis, who, he says "must stick pretty close to the mountains, for I have not seen him in the two years I have been here". It's from the famous Dartmouth-in-God's Country paper, Squeaks From the Golden Gate, and concerns the cabin site that Johnny has planned for the D. O. C. of Northern California on Donner Summit. Johnny is also furnishing timber and yearround labor in person for the Green's own private Sun Valley, "right on a lake, near the all-year highway, with electricity and water on the property, a ski tow, and fine skiing slopes—which will not be patronized by high-heeled snowball rollers".
Oh, yes, we forgot to say—that little reunion we were going to have will be in June sometime. Just a little get-together, that's all.
Marital news from Sid Wisch, at Prospect Ave. and East 4th St. in Cleveland, who announces rather matter-of-factly that he "took unto himself a wife on October 9, in Detroit, and we're very happy, thank you". The young lady's name is Melba Wisch. Sid took her to a basketball game when the Green was visiting Cleveland, but unfortunately the home town talent took the boys over the jumps. "Heard one cute young thing behind us say to her escort, 'Will you please tell me what you see in a school that plays basketball like that?' I crouched for a jump at her, but her friend beat me to it. We left her lying on the steps as we went out".
Sid, incidentally, repeated one of John Foley's inducements to the rest of us to turn up at that little gathering we were talking about: namely, to see the vision of the Japanese sunset glowing in Harry Masterton's bald dome. Of course, there will also be refreshments and maybe a dance. Good chance to see all the guys. Like a little get-together, sort of.
Hope we see you there. It'll be around June sometime. You chaps might arrange to take part of your vacations around then. That would be a good idea, wouldn't it, now?
Before that happens, there's a few fellows we'd like to hear from—so maybe a few misstatements would bring some news, however indignant. What boards is Al Hewitt treading now? For the last time, where and how is Goose Goss?—as far as we know, '34's only government representative, except for Bob Corwin, with the S.E.C. How's Bud Yallalee's literary endeavor? How about our quarterly literary gem from Charley Armes? What's the rowdy atmosphere of Boston sportiana doing to Howie McHugh? And so on. Something must be happening to somebody.
Before we close, I'd just like to remind you about that little—oh, that's fine! You'll be there, eh? Swell! Say, what was yourname anyway? We sat about four seatsapart in comp lit, but you know how it is.Five years can do a lot, can't they! You bet.A lot of bridge can go over the water, eh?Ha ha! Sure, I never forget a face, butnames! Wow! And wait a minute, who'sthat guy over there—the guy with the bowtie. No not him, the other one. Geez, hesaid hello Bill to me a minute ago and hellI never saw him in my life before!
Secretary, 126 Beaufort PI., New Rochelle, N. Y.
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