Thirty-Fifth Reunion of 1907
DEAR CLASSMATE: Another anniversary has come and gone! And, if Nineteen Seven's Thirty- Fifth has not made history, it has had a modest part in history-making,—Dartmouth history-making, and quite as certainly, national history-making. For the 1942 Commencement and the reunions which followed a week later were not unalloyed jubilation,—though it would be wrong to suggest that joy and relaxation and animal spirits were lacking.
As your Secretary jogs Bostonward on the slowest (!) B. & M. train available, and renews acquaintance with every flag-stop that he knew intimately nearly forty years ago (and has hardly seen since), he is trying to analyze and classify his most recent Dartmouth experience. If reasonably successful his analysis will be your report, with something, he hopes, of the bigger event of which your reunion was a part, and a more specific something about your classmates and their doings.
Arrival on Thursday evening, during twilight, strongly suggested that this reunion would be different from all others. There was almost no sign of human activity, in the village or about the campus,—no evidence even of preparation for the activities of the succeeding days. But there was no sense of disappointment, nothing inappropriate in the absence of vocal welcome. The campus was never lovelier, and never more peaceful, and Dartmouth Row never more dignified. I am sure their message to each individual restless, worried alumnus was—"At ease."
Friday was a day of arrivals. Our advance guard was made up of a small group who had been unable to resist the attractions of "Hanover Holiday." They were Charlie Woodworth, Doc Foley and Ted Richardson, and one of our Hanover residents, Dick Southgate. Between "Holiday" lectures and golf matches, they received the trickle of arriving classmates throughout the first day. The passageway between Middle and North Massachusetts Halls was
"headquarters," and until the rains came, it was ideal. There were no scheduled reunion events, except meetings of class officers, until the President's Reception on Friday evening. It was a delightful affair, in Thayer Hall, the new dining hall built since our 30th reunion, and was attended by our select group of some twenty men and our much smaller, but equally select, number of wives and children.
Although our ranks had not been filled Friday evening and Saturday were not unlike all the reunions you can recall. Men were arriving, wives were getting acquainted with other wives, golf was being planned and rehashed, Liscomb was dispensing refreshments and hospitality, and vocal chords were being tested. Rumor has it that 'O7 won points in the pre-midnight harmony bouts but suffered at the hands (?) of '17 until the competition ended at dawn. At any rate, some of the boys lost the bloom of youth overnight.
Saturday started auspiciously. A Harvard-Dartmouth lacrosse game was attended by a few, but they were not competent reporters and the result, said to be a Dartmouth victory, cannot be asserted with conviction. Then the class photograph, with nearly full strength, and the Alumni Luncheon, again in Thayer Hall. The speakers, and perhaps their speeches, will probably be reported elsewhere in this MAGAZINE, and this reporter will refer only to the awareness of the national crisis which was strongly in evidence throughout the program. If one had any remaining doubt about the critical character of the problems with which the nation, the College and the individual are confronted, all such doubt was dispelled. But there was no sign of doubt as to the future of the nation and the College. We were told, for example, that eighty per cent of the class which graduated less than a week earlier, had already entered the armed services, and, of the remaining twenty per cent, many had not been reported because they had enlisted before graduation. One of the '42 class had already given his life at Pearl Harbor.
The Holy Cross-Dartmouth baseball game, threatened and delayed by a rain storm, was attended by the adventurous (those who wouldn't be their age) and a defeat was reported. But no one seemed to be unduly disturbed about that. Then the skies opened in earnest and classmates selected their favorite indoor sports,—bridge, sleep, beer and discussion (as well as emission) of gas.
At the hour of seven, '07, having finally gathered its full numerical strength, assembled at the Outing Club on the shores of Occom Pond and became transformed from a group of individuals into a wholly integrated unit. Some say refreshment provided by Bill Smart and his reunion committee turned the trick, others that '07 always unifies once for a few hours each five years. Whatever the cause, the fact and the effect are beyond question. The half-hour at the edge of the pond is the 35th reunion to me,—for then the class was reunited, including you who were not physically present.
The class dinner was excellent, gastronomically, no complaints being registered at least. But there should have been a New Dealer at hand to protest monopolization of the postprandial diet,—it might be called the "gas" course. For, in the absence of the Class President, Jim O'Neill, and the Vice President, Mike Smith, the duty of presiding and reporting fell upon the Class Secretary-Treasurer. Be it said to his eternal discredit, he saw his chance and grabbed it.
Business was done,—with the aid of an efficient steam-roller.
The Treasurer, admitting his incapacity, resigned and passed his problem and his mistakes on to a better man. Bill Cummings is now your Treasurer, (Thank God!)
The Secretary took advantage of a self- created smoke-screen and got away without audible censure, with a report that was no report at all. Letters from classmates, flattering reference to children and grandchildren, and similar diversions were offered in place of an honest report.
Charles Beals interceded for us and thanked the Divine Creator for allowing thirty-four of us to return to our Alma Mater. (And I'm sure he intended to suggest that you who were not with us were being punished rather severely for your small sins).
Your President had an acute appendix operation just a few days before he had intended to leave for Hanover, and the class sent a sincere message of condolence and regret to him.
Mike Smith, your Vice President, has been an officer in the Medical Corps, at Fort Devens, Mass., for some weeks, and found it impossible to leave his duties. Our hats were doffed to Mike, and he has been so advised.
Two other classmates, already in service, were among the missing and among those missed.
Charlie McKendree is now Commander, U. S. Navy, stationed since February at Brooklyn Naval Hospital. His letter to the class was read and deeply appreciated.
Warren Billings of Rome, New York is Associate Electrical Engineer with the U. S. Engineer Corps, and was unable to leave his duties.
The list of those men, and the wives and children, who made up the 35th, is published in adjoining space for all to envy.
A list of those who have left the ranks forever since our 30th, fifteen in all, was read at the dinner as the class representation stood in silence.
After dinner and business were finished, the class, now joined by the small but loyal group of wives and children, including the class baby, Mary Beals, viewed films of our 25th and 30th reunions supplied by Phil Chase. It is difficult to report with conviction whether joy or regret was in the ascendant, as the mature 35th gazed at the athletic 30th and the youthful 25th. But there is no doubt about the reaction when Pat Hathaway and Harry Wellman played the old tunes and encouraged the close harmony which recalled our campus days so vividly.
Sunday was a day of rain—entirely normal for May in Hanover. But it did make golfing and other outdoor activities difficult, and by noon the 35th was history. A few stayed on but most of them were back at their jobs Monday.
Whether those who bring you their verbal reports will say it was a wholly successful reunion, or a disappointing one, I cannot forecast. But it was for me one more link in a not so long, but very strong, chain of events, friendships and associations which means Dartmouth.
The reunion meetings which brought all classes together, the meetings of class officers and alumni with faculty and administration representatives, were marked by deep concern for the future of the College and the country, but by calm courage, determination and confidence. "There will always be a Dartmouth" might have been the keynote. No note of thoughtless optimism was in evidence,—for hundreds of young alumni (and undergraduates) were in uniform or were about to be. Lives had been given, others, many others, would be given to the preservation of that way of life which Dartmouth represents, and deeds of heroism were being performed some- where in the world, by Dartmouth men, while several hundred fortunate alumni were reuning "as usual."—Not quite as usual, though, and never again will there be a Commencement or a Reunion "as usual" until the job is done.
Don't have any doubts about the part Dartmouth men are playing and will play in the world tragedy,—if you have ever had any. And be equally certain that the author knew the quality of his College-mates and their beloved College when he chose for the title of his song, "Dartmouth Undying."
Sincerely your secretary,
Dick Lane.
Members of the class of 1907 at 35th Reunion:
E. L. Ashley; E. B. Barker and Mrs. Barker; C. E. Beals and his daughter, Mary A. Beals; E. C. Brooks; J. B. Brown; P. H. Chase and Mrs. Chase; J. M. Coburn; W. H. Cummings; J. F. Crocker; N. F. Davis and Mrs. Davis; C. W. Fields; E. P Foley, Mrs. Foley and 2 daughters; G. W. Grebenstein; C. H. Hathaway; H. R. Heneage; M. S. How- ard; R. D. Kenyon; H. R. Lane; G. E. Liscomb; J. R. McLane; H. L. Niles; C. T. Pierce; J. Piper; C. Plummer; E. T. Richards and Mrs. Richards; E. Richardson; R. C. Shattuck, Mrs. Shattuck and their son; W. H. Smart and Mrs. Smart; R. S. Southgate; A. E. Stevens; C. M. Stilphen; H. C. Storrs; H. R. Wellman; C. P. Woodworth.
REUNERS OF THE CLASS OF 1907 POSE FOR THEIR PICTURE AT THEIR 35TH IN HANOVER
