1918*
CHICAGO DIN N ER—"QUICK LUNCH" 808 FISH plans a roundup of Chicago '18ers last week in Feb. (high- spotted in next issue). Professor Fish expects to wise up Banker Dick Aishton on how to limit your bets at Bradley's in Miami and come away with a smiling profit. Em Morse or Dick may accommodate as prodders to get out Fred Carleton, Ray Dart, Marsh Davies, Lymie Drake, Charlie Kozminski, Ralph Norton, Carleton Potter, Bill Shellman, Hi Belding, Penn Carolan, Roy Cleveland, Harold DAncona, Francis Heaney, Ray Hurley, Otto Kubin, Marty Straus, Ray Tarbell, Bots Young, Frank Lewis, and Bob Wenban
BOSTON DINNER-February 2, Hotel Somerset—Jake Bingham syphoning the news—prodders, Emperor Gottschaldt (has a childish fetish of driving, driving, driving over the snow to Keene, making superb time—between numerous stops) and Eddie Ferguson got them out, Dr. Curt Tripp, the outstanding Boston surgeon assisting. An orchestra shepherded by Jack English had notables Al Lucier and John Sullivan gracing its ranks Those present, tanner and farmer Lou Cousens (Lou with a swank Salem accent dined at Tom Shirley's —at last—protested no knowledge of the 20th Reunion (Eddie Ferguson's phone bill was 11.05 charged to Lou's phone), coalman Eddie Emerson, Warren Farmer, Ken Jones, the daily proof-reader of the Evening Transcript, lawyer Jack Donohue threatened impeachment of Babe McDonough and Tim Donohue, so they were there, Reed Montgomery (thanks for the beer at Reunion, Monty) Joe Quincy, Phil Sanderson (all the way from Portsmouth, N. H.—some class spirit), Tom Shirley, Stubbie Stanley, Leon White, Jim Carpenter, and Don Davis Hubie McDonough and Charlie McCarthy were coming, but were side-tracked by deep snow, a beautiful woman, or a scotch and soda.
. . . . This was a tribute dinner to President Harvey Hood, head of the Alumni Association ... and '18 salutes his grand job.
'16-'17-'18-'19 REUNION-DART- MOUTH CLUB-NEW YORK-FEB. 6- About so 'iBers came out, 50 in all- splendid idea—grand visits with other classes. Eddie Earle at the piano—no program—a mighty nice evening, many said. Bob Saint Knowles put in appearance— grand to see him—knows every inch of Manhattan real estate from 34th St. down —practically sold Jasper Johnston a new rental, better location, half the rent, what's your phone number, Bob? Another high- spot of the evening, Oil Magnate Cap Hanley gave everyone pleasure with his presence—even got a promise from Christgau that he'd buy his gas there—same Cap, same hearty "hello," same healthy devil, gets his oil from Syl Morey (Syl buys it back again at the filling station, vicious combination, something for the SEC to look into). Howie Macy Park (wouldn't buy at Macy's on a bet) delighted the assemblage with his presence, a philatalist of the first water—prize winner of U. S. and Canadian stamps—a chance for you philats to exchange some stamps. Howie slices in some high-powered golf—is a director of the Cranford Mutual Building & Loan and under his wing now come most of the tax and real estate problems of the huge Socony-Vacuum Co.—wife Anne a grand Dartmouth rooter. Russell Yerbe Smith was there, big, healthy, and handsome, but only Curt Glover, who was sitting side of him, can report the latest stories and gags of Russ. Boston's loss is our gain, and Bennie Franklin Mugridge, now handling industrial relations for the president of the Eagle Pencil Co., was swapping problems with industrial relationship scholar Dwight Sargent, Ben has 1000 to 1600 in his labor group; Bennie already enjoys the confidence of labor, fine relation- ship with the CIO and a complete endorsement by the Eagle Pencil Co., tolerant, apparently willing to look at all angles, Bennie's to be watched. Bennie was given a grand ovation in Boston Jan. 15, as he retired as secretary of the local chapter of the Society for Advancement of Management. Observed in the corners were Paul Miner and Ned Ross, fighting over again the bloody battles of Lunnerville and Paris. How is Hollow Head, the baker's daughter in Soissons? How is Martha? How is that toothless charcuterie's daughter, you know, in Lunnerville? Was Ned asking Paul or Paul asking Ned?. Beaming, proud, new-Papa Dave Garrett was there. Martha Jane, born 12/29/38, was home in a crib—Dave had a tough time, Marion is doing nicely. Applications are in for Smith or Vassar. The new papa looked as nonchalant as in the days when he and Clemenceau marched up the Champs Elysees, pendant la guerre (during the war to the Navy boys). Every time Dave goes to Chicago he meets Em Morse smoothing up in some barber shop Jack Rosnell, now married, took care of Mac McElwain, or maybe the old dependable Prodder Mac took care of Jack. Jack's Texas oiling threatened a bigger discount to Cap Hanley than Morey gives. King Rood was there, the outstanding Long Lines publicity man did a grand job in preparing a booklet of pictures of last Reunion—anybody want any? Yes. Eddie Fergoosen does—write Al Street, 309 Townsend Ave., New Haven, Conn. "The same mugs in all the pictures," says Chris—"a dead issue now" says Professor Fish, guess we'll run the pictures one at a time in the ALUMNI MAG.—The new papa, Bob Morrison, was coming—a cold cut him down, a sore throat kept Westchester realtor Pete Colwell away—accountant Loooie Pounds was sick abed, and Henry Hesse was giving his all for dear old R. H. Macy. 'T was a slushy night, Fritz Cassebeer was grinning, patients and doctors were streaming in his drug store uptown to head off the grippe and the flu—the cash register was ringing and Fred beaming—if it wasn't for the bread and butter, he'd give you the drug store and spend his time reproducing colored pictures of beautiful flowers, if the skilled talent that handles the delicate painting wasn't so limited in this country- magazines and the New York Times frown perpetually at his door, suggesting he drop the mortar and pestle and speak with authority through their mediums on iris and bulbs and flowers—no denying it—he's got what is takes. Walter Ross from Port Washington was there, beaming not quite so brightly as he does in the spring, when he and his wife Gin can set out in their sailboat. .... Steve Mahoney, the firm member of Burke, Kuipers & Mahoney, was plotting with Cap Hanley and Chris Christgau to kidnap Gerry Geran and get him out to the next turnout. George Stoddard, "The Killer," came in to thaw out from his recent week in Canada. "Killer" he was named by the rough-hewn natives of a gold-mining, ranching, prairie town out west this fall, when upon entering the corner bar, saloon, and barber shop he was egged on by the townies to throw a dagger at the ace of spades pinned up behind the bar—and lo and behold, the Killer made it dead center—it hangs there today—the cowboys shudder, the Indians Wah Whoo-ed, "Thank God that Killer from De Laval Co. is now in New York " Should that prairie saloon ever learn that their admired Killer dangled a drag of crushed apples and fishgut for hours through the western woods, dropping in a shanty in the middle of the night from fatigue, and while snoring letting the bear devour his bait and get away—well, they'll never learn. There's a man—while West at the Pow-Wow and bear hunting, Mary receives here in Westchester, a lovely nude picture (with fan or smile on) of Sally Rand, affection- ately endorsed "To my old Pal Georgie Stoddard"—And what a salesman! The bear hunter who brought home no bears came back to the fireside—all is forgiven and harmony still reigns And speaking of Bill Wright, the Rancher Chieftain from Ranch 71, Deeth, Nevada, George said he relaxed and took it easy at the Stanford game, seldom getting up mornings before 5:30 A.M. " 'T was noticeable," continued George, "that Bill missed his customary breakfast of fresh, fresh roast steer." Said George, "One morning before breakfast, long after Bill was up, about 4:30 in the morning, Bill clubbed a steer, had him amputated in choice cuts, served George a freshly cut heart, so tender and fresh that you had to keep your heel on the portion to keep the heart from flopping off the plate." No question about this, these healthy, ruddy '18ers from the big, open spaces like Bill Wright and the Ulster County fruit monopoly Monk Cameron don't look a day over 60. Duke was coming, suddenly called out of town—the country squire may yet give us some pictures of his modern, stream-lined mansion up in Connecticut Mary, we hear, figured it all out that she could go to Paris and get all her modern stream-lined furniture hand-made, pay her expenses going and coming, and still do better than in the States (has Merchant John O'Gara, vice president of Macy's, anything to say?). Dusty Rhodes, the Lucius Beebe about town, escorted Howie Macy Park to the Club Like to see any good shows in New York? Dusty Rhodes, weekly under- writer, 80 Maiden Lane, will review the best bets, for Dusty is a reviewer of shows, dramatics, and dancing for some of our leading New York newspapers—and—we hear—the theatre sponsors in Connecticut are trying to persuade him to plunge back in dramatics again this summer A post- card from the Frenchie Frenchman George Hull—"This summer we received the visit of Monsieur Ernest Earley. We went to dinner and I had one glass too much—acting on the theory that Ernie was a guest and that I'd better go along with him, as he'd be embarrassed if he became conspicuous all alone." What was that fluid, George, so mild and delicate, you said, that cut a groove in the stomach lining and burned the bottoms of my feet? I can still hear George protesting, "Hort Kennedy is the greatest foreign exchange man in France," as Hort appeared about ready to throw a block and tackle as in old freshman days. A voice from Worcester, Tommie O'Connell, "Al and I have worked for proper acclaim, inasmuch as we were undefeated champs of horseshoe pitching contest at Shanty Shane at 20th Reunion. Let's hear no more about Shea and his feverish fielding at soft ball—am expecting something in January." Was he a fullback, Tommie?... Eddie Felt, to whom the class is indebted for accumulating Reunion snapshots, and busy keeping the moss off from Moss-Chase Co. (says George Stoddard) recently had Elizabeth and Hugh Whipple up for dinner, as Hugh was traveling that way on Insecticide business—weren't the Musicas doing that on the side, Hugh?) And says Eddie Ferguson, "What a grand job Harvey Hood did—had Professor Anderson down from Hanover, speaking on 'What Germany Gained in Munich.' Had hired a hall for 50 or 75, and 250 came out, and Toast- master Hood introduced the speakers beautifully.". . Jim Carpenter, the 1918 director of the University Club, was present. The former Miss Elizabeth Reed and Mr. Alexis Chapman Proctor (Ax, to us) will be at home after April 1, 38 Peabody Place, Franklin, N. H. (Both Appalachian Mountain Club members—Bachelors McElwain and Cassebeer please take note).
.... Bill Byron, Williamsport, Md., up from Exeter for our freshman year, has been successively mayor and state senator . . . and more from Jake Bingham, "Ray Baldes, professor at Boston University Law School, was recently chairman of the Boston University Athletic Committee, presided at a recent football dinner Harold Bloomfield, associated with Ward's Baking Co., Cambridge, Mass., lives at 41 Lawrence Lane, Belmont Nipper Knapps' nephew was recently elected assistant football manager at Colgate for next year Dick Sisk suffered the recent loss of his father, a retired judge in Lynn, Mass Johnnie Simmons is the delight of the treasurer of the N. Y. Dartmouth Club—his bar and entertainment slips are right welcome On the Dartmouth Vocational Guidance Committee are Chuck Palmer '18, Eddie Felt '18, Murray Baldwin '18, Tom Bryant '18 Francis Taggart Christy (Bob Knowles asked where Taggart was), the big, powerful vice president of Rockefeller Center, is leaving February 11 on the S. S. New Amsterdam for a trip around South America (lucky guy), but with all the work he puts in, he certainly rates it You men who haven't sent Stumpie Barr $3.50 and get this ALUMNI MAG.—give us a lift, brother—we're in a bad hole.
Secretary, 16 Court St., Brooklyn, N. Y
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