The Fifty-Year Address
Alex D. Salinger '92 Reviews History of the Class And Looks in Confidence at the College of Today
Following is the text of Mr. Salinger's address in behalf of the GoldenAnniversary class of 1892 at theAlumni Meeting in Hanover, May16.
MR. PRESIDENT AND FELLOW ALUMNI:
Impossible as it seems to the young men of the class of '92, it is the undeniable fact that the class is now taking its place in the ever-lengthening procession of Fifty Year Classes. As we do so, we gratefully acknowledge the welcome which you have accorded us, as we celebrate our Golden Anniversary as alumni of Dartmouth College.
When fifty years ago this Commencement the College launched upon the world the class of '92, this in itself was not an event of special importance, though many of us thought so at the time. However, our 1892 Commencement did mark an important turning point in the history of the College,—the end of an epoch and the faint beginnings of what was then already being referred to as the "New Dartmouth."
President Bartlett, that sturdy apostle of the Old Dartmouth, characterized in Quint's "Story of Dartmouth" as "a man of Iron in an Iron Age," graduated with the class of '93, so to speak. His resigna- tion as president became effective at the close of that college year, and his last ad- dress as head of the College was made at our Commencement alumni luncheon, which was held in Bissell Hall, then serving as the College gymnasium. His rather spirited remarks on that occasion were largely directed to defence and glorification of Dartmouth as it had been, and he concluded his address by saying most earnestly that the very best wish that he could make for the New Dartmouth was that it should equal the Old Dartmouth. Today, after the passage of fifty years, it can be said with assurance, not only that President Bartlett's wish has been amply realized, but that the progress of the College in all directions under the splendid guidance of Dr. Tucker, Dr. Nichols and that president of presidents, Ernest Martin Hopkins, has been so far beyond anything that President Bartlett or we could have dreamed of in those far gone days as still to seem miraculous to old timers like us of the class of '92.
During our life at Dartmouth, the total undergraduate enrolment of the College was far less than the number now graduating each year. The class of '92 entered college with an enrolment of ninety men, largely recruited from the farms and small towns of New Hampshire, Vermont, Maine and Massachusetts. Of these ninety men, sixty-three were academic entrants, and the remaining twenty-seven were in that somewhat independent department of the College then known as the Chandler Scientific School. We graduated sixty-six men in 1892,—not much more than the College football squad of the present day. So far as concerns number of students, the College was then at very low ebb.
So, too, the faculty was small in number, though it comprised choice souls whose beneficent influence upon us was strong and imperishable,—undoubtedly of greater and more enduring value than all the book-learning acquired under them.
President Bartlett, in addition to his regular duties as head of the College, himself taught classes, and in his course of Biblicals he zealously defended the literal truth of every story and statement in the Old Testament that any doubting Thomas was inclined to question. His vigorous and sincere support of what he believed to be the truth unquestionably made a strong and lasting impression upon us.
FOND MEMORIES OF ALL FACULTY
To speak adequately of the other members of the faculty of our time would not be feasible here. '92 cherishes the memory of them all and acknowledges its debt of gratitude to them.
The physical plant of the College and living conditions during our time were distinctly characteristic of the Old Dartmouth, though there were some forerunners of the New. We still lived in the days when all the dormitories save one were wholly dependent on the College pump for water, kerosene lamps for light, and wood or coal burning stoves for heat. Reed Hall, with its recently acquired splendor, was the Gold Coast of the College, and there dwelt the pampered few who luxuriated in running water and steam heat. Reed Hall also boasted a so-called
"Queen," who made the beds and cleaned the rooms,—operations seldom performed in the other dormitories, where the students were their own chamber-maids.
And now having taken a glance at our background, let us look very briefly at the post-graduate history and accomplishments of the class.
Speaking of the class as a whole, it has always been and still is a remarkably united class without schism of any kind and with unfaltering loyalty to the College It has been far from a wealthy class, but the College has received substantial benefactions from some of its members, and the standing of the class in the Alumni Fund Roll of Honor has been high— usually near the top. Its reunions have always been well and enthusiastically attended. At our Fourtieth Reunion we were awarded the cup for the best re-uning class attendance, and at our Forty-fifth we were runner up to the Fifty Year Class. Today of the twenty-two surviving graduates of the Class, 14 are here, and 3 of the five surviving non-graduates.
As to the individual members of the class, their virtues and accomplishments cannot well be catalogued within the compass of an address such as this. Therefore, I touch here upon the life of but one of our departed classmates—a man who became outstanding in our class, and would have been so in any class, Edward K. Hall.
Ed had a many sided career, extraordinary in its varied accomplishments and benefactions to the College. He rose far in the business world, where his work and reputation were of national scope. During the World War, as one of the famous $1,00 a year men, he served the Government in an important position under Secretary of War Baker, who valued his services most highly. However, Ed was probably best known nationally as chairman of the Football Rules Committee, in which position he labored long and successfully to preserve and perfect the game of football at a time when its very life was seriously threatened. As was said by Harvard's Athletic Director Bingham at the time of Ed's death, "If Walter Camp was the father of American football, E. K. Hall was the saviour of the game."
In loyalty to Dartmouth, none could excel Ed, and his loyalty was evidenced by deeds. He gave unbounded personal service to the College in many capacities, culminating in his serving as a Trustee of the College for a considerable period of years. He had much to do with the planning and the raising of funds for the gymnasium, which, at the time of its completion, was said to be the largest and finest gymnasium in the world. He it was who conceived the idea of Palaeopitus, and he helped to organize that society and guide it in its early days. Finally, he and Mrs. Hall presented the College with that model of infirmaries, "Dick's House," upon the construction and furnishing of which they both lavished untold thought and effort. Ed finally came back to Hanover to live, and now he rests eternally in the Hanover cemetery, in the midst of the College that he loved and served.
I would that I could go on to speak of many other members of the class who deserve mention here, but that is out of the question.
We of the class of '92 are today looking back at the marvelous progress of the College, and we glory in the high standing that the College has attained. But what of the future,—what kind of a Dartmouth have the young men of the class of '42 to look forward to, and what will their survivors have seen when they have been out of College fifty years? Will Dartmouth still be functioning then, and, if so, as a free institution in a free country and a cleansed world?
The world today surely has a somber aspect, with the certainty of hard conditions to be faced. Yet similar storms have arisen before and have been successfully weathered by die College and by the country.
Twenty-five years ago this Commencement things also were looking very dark and the future seemed in great doubt. We had just entered the World War, then at a very critical stage, and the outlook was grim indeed. The ranks of the College had been greatly depleted by the rush of Dartmouth men to the service of the country, and Commencement was a gloomy affair. Class reunions had been mostly abandoned, and so it happened that the class of '92 had no Twenty-Five Year Reunion. But the country and the College survived those trying times, and Dartmouth became stronger and more of a national institution than ever.
Now we are once more embattled, and we are in the midst of a war unprecedented in its scope, ferocity and possible consequences. But as I envisage the future, our country will endure, and our college will endure and will continue year by year to pour into the country's life-blood groups of straight thinkers and robust doers with "the still North in their souls, the hill- winds in their breath, and the granite of New Hampshire made part of them till death."
