1940
Despite many complications and uncertainties which have gone hand in hand with the individual reconversion of the 1940 man, a gratifying total of 117 classmates, accompanied by a delicious assortment of wives, descended upon Hanover, and in particular Hitchcock Hall which served as living and drinking headquarters, for the belated five-year reunion "hellabration" over the weekend starting July 12th.
The first arrivals at the 1940 tent in front of Hitchcock were "beering up" by early Friday afternoon, including Class Secretary Jack Moody, who did an outstanding job in making the thousand and one arrangements necessary for reunion success, as well as "Butterball" Rainie, Alumni Fund financial mag- nate responsible for the class going close to $1000 over its ambitious quota of $4500.
By midafternoon of the first day, a sufficient number of reunioners were in attendance to make up a courageous, if not talented, softball nine largely armed with beer bottles to contest the young and spry 1941 aggregation at the Senior Fence. Les Nichols, drafted for the midcampus mound, with erratic but noisy support and an omnipresent beer bucket, found it exceedingly difficult to avoid a lopsided football-type score amassed by our younger neighbors, sparked on by Junior Bob Rainie who had practiced for the event since early Spring.
Late afternoon of Friday and Saturday found 1940 Class Movies on the schedule in 105 Dartmouth, complete with Nugget-flavored commentary from a sharp audience without benefit of peanuts. The majority of scenes were of one chubber activity or another, with the inevitable Bill Pellington, Ed Schechter and Jay Weinberg schussing snowy trails with white-cap Bill Halsey, Hanover architect and Harvard ski team coach, always in close attendance. Other scenes evoking considerable reminiscence were of house-parties, athletic contests, campus ceremonies, and Commencement.
By early Friday evening a steady stream of cars poured into the sodden Gold Coast area, and the 1940 tent, bulging at its tremendous seams, was resounding to the glad hello and Moody's plaintive wails for payment of the surprisingly reasonable $8 class tax which covered the cost of such items as identification button, dance, picnic, brew, banquet and the Players show. Thanks to Supermarketeer Ernie Lendler and other faithful party supporters, 1940 had one of the most plentiful supplies of liquid amusement on the campus, without benefit of Tanzi Freres (who could only contribute seltzer water, such being the local situation)—so hospitality to all comers was the keynote up to the very end.
Major activity of the first day, aided and abetted by continuous partying in the 1940 tent and the overflowing rooms of Hitchcock, was the Dance in Commons for the reuning classes, featuring as gorgeous an array of femininity as might gladden a bachelor's eye. Strictly a married affair and with Moody's date bureau nonexistent, John Moore and Ray Dau were probably the only single men fortunate enough to obtain dates from local sources such as the 1916 tent and faculty families. Others of the long eared clan cut in at will to hear enthralling tales of two or more children at home and the increasing price of butter.
For many, Friday and Saturday were never clearly separated by sleep, the campus being toured regularly by elbow-bending champs Van Cleve, Schott and Young, ably assisted by "Wolf" Bumstead, the scourge of all 1940 husbands. Saturday mid-morning found the clearer eyed of both sexes stumbling into Dartmouth Hall to hear addresses about the present College situation and future plans of Dartmouth from President Dickey, Sid Hayward and Davis Jackson. Our own Tom Braden, of current Washington publication fame, represented the younger classes, and gave a short, incisive address, the highlight of the morning's proceedings.
By 13:30 on the second day of Reunion, a convoy of some forty cars was on its way in caravan formation to Oak Hill Cabin and an excellent picnic provided by the D.O.C. Thanks to Staff "Oldfield" King, the precious keg of beer was driven through bramble, briar and thicket to the supposedly inaccessible clearing, whereupon the welkin continued to ring. An abortive attempt was made by the Executive Committee of the minority 1940 Bachelors Marching and Chowder Society to select a queen from fifty or more assembled class distaff side members, but discretion came to the fore in time to prevent "Sporting Wagon" Dryfoos and "Skyscraper" Arwe from touching off an explosion which might have rivalled the Bikini test in intensity. Results of the balloting are still top secret.
The balance of the afternoon, with a repeat session of films scheduled, found the party scattering to points between Lake Morey and Lebanon, with a majority descending upon Storrs Pond. Others braved the wrath of contented unhousebroken Pompanoosuc cows and got reacquainted with the swimming hole of yesteryear. Five o'clock was designated as collecting time at fraternity houses so that the brothers could "fraternize" as of old.
By 6:30, with new arrivals still pouring in, class members with wives (as a result of last-minute finger-counting decisions), appeared at the Thayer Cafeteria for a splendid dinner, with seconds on lobster salad, provided by Mrs. Hayward and the DDA, featuring Professor John M. Mecklin of the Sociology Department, to whom the 1940 Aegis was dedicated, still inspiring despite the handicap of poor acoustics. Down to class business at the conclusion of the address, Dwight Meader, on behalf of the nominating committee, submitted the names of Don Rainie for Secretary-Chairman, Jack Willson for Treasurer, and Dick Babcock, Hank Dahl, Bob Draper, Don Fox, Bud Hewitt, Jack O'Shea, Howie Stockwell, Chap Wentworth, and Rainie for the nine-man executive committee. However, the best laid plans went astray and a three cornered Alphonse-Gaston act started between incumbent Moody, Indian Drum tub thumper Rainie, and N. Y. Committee Member Hewitt to avoid the chore of writing an alumni column each month and arranging for the 1950 get-together. Moody was winner-loser by acclamation, having made the tactical error of admitting how easy the job could be when trying to convince other candidates. The balance of the slate was carried as proposed by the nominating committee.
The only other formal event on the Saturday agenda remained the Players revival of the old melodrama Love Rides the Rails, presented in Webster Hall by a competent cast of undergraduates, graduates, student wives, faculty members and townspeople, and featuring an outstanding villain by Doc Fielding '43, flown in that very day from Chicago as a last-minute understudy.
By midnight, the 1940 tent, focal point of the campus, was distorted to twice its already expanded size, with a constant ebb and flow to Fraternity Row, also booming in approved Houseparty fashion. Wives and husbands became separated in the crush, with the only firmly united couple being John Manley and his lovely blonde bride of forty-eight hours duration. As the morning grew longer and the party more enthusiastic, above the crash of beer bottles and strange cacophony of voices, plans were overheard being made for a continuation of the well-received N. Y. dinner and a similar effort up Boston way. The party was Old Home week for the Greater N. Y. group, solidified by three Spring Sessions plus the annual dinner at the Commodore.
Sunday morning found some stalwart souls attending church services, regular and memorial, of which there were several, and then a gradual fading out as one car after another left Hanover Hill and trains pulled out for Southern and Western points. Operators Moody and Rainie as final delegatory act voted the writing of this column and the immediate ALUMNI MAGAZINE deadline to Nichols, Garrison and Hewitt, all remaining in Hanover for recuperative purposes. As this is assembled in fragments at the tennis court, the dorm and the Pompanoosuc, your correspondents realize that several Indian Drums will have already provided more lurid details, so through space limitation attempt only to hit the highlights of reminiscence. So, with parting memories of prosperous cigar-chewing Woody Cataldo and super limousine, of attractive ETO brides squired by proud Joe Burnett and Jim McElory, of Man Mountain Schott no longer fitted into definitive bell bottoms, reminiscing with former skipper Bill Rearden, of George Johnson and trailing shirt tail, and a thousand other recollections .... we diehard correspondents turn the column back to Jack and Lois Moody with the plea that each and everyone of you keep in touch and thus assure a news-packed column every month until we all meet again, a little balder, a bit stouter, with larger families, and we hope increasingly happy and prosperous. It is to be regretted that more of the class could not be present to enjoy what many of us thought was the finest weekend we have ever spent in Hanover.
FOR ONE MOMENT 1940 stopped their reuning long enough last month to allow the photographer to get this official class picture.
Secretary, 7 Richardson St., Montpelier, Vt.
Treasurer, 42 Congress St., St. Albans, Vt.
