1916
The Secretary is typing these notes after a week of almost Florida temperatures in Washington; the Washington sky is cloudless (unless you're talking politics) and the sun through the south window not only thaws my lumbago, but lights up a desk full of Dartmouth's, letters from classmates, vital statistics sent via Dan Dinsmoor, and my wife's flowerpots A 1916 Washington dinner is being cooked up for 14th February; 1916ers not answering my letters can blame themselves. First, to give you an idea of what the College is like as seen through eyes of Dartmouth editors—Student wives (there's an appellation) urged to sign for bridge party; members of the Italian Club urged to wear coats and ties for the Club photo; editorials and vox poppers complain of undergrads' poor sportsmanship at basketball games, "throwing verbal pop bottles at opposition"; Camp, Pudge's assistant, approves social activities board for non-fraternity men; an undergrad editor conjured up an imaginary girl's college, invited 15 students there for a free weekend, and after signing them up, confessed the hoax and left town for parts unknown; a fan says the wrestling team deserves a regular coach; Prof. Keir blames Talmadge on northern bankers; the new campus magazine Quarterly Review wins praise; Phi Gamma Delta advertises "short but important meeting; come prepared to pay debts if possible"; practically every man, woman and child in Hanover was having his picture taken for the Aegis; an economics prof said "problems involved in governmental taxation are so complex that it is impossible to give a 'yes' or 'no' answer as to whether a reduction in the tax rate can be justified" (ain't it the truth?); Dean Neidlinger warned students about "nursing" on beer bottles at hockey games; Margaret Truman declined with regrets the invitation of several freshmen for Winter Carnival; the movie reviewer apparently hates all movies and all actors; a notice aimed at enticing students to take up extracurricular campus activities, says "A Dartmouth education means more than an A.B. degree"; and a dazed classified ad says: "I have the wrong Navy coat. Mine is stenciled H. S. Ratcliffe, 306 Crosby." The editorials deal mostly with the budget, atomic bomb, and other international affairs, in which field they compete with The New York Times, ToledoNews-Bee and San Francisco Chronicle. That's The Dartmouth today.
Burton Lowe wrote me to add him to the list of grandfathers: "The event took place in my family on 25 th August. James Valentine Miller seems to be doing quite well. It's a little early to put him on skis and I can't get the little cuss to articulate Wah-Hoo-Wah intelligently as yet My bag is all packed for Hanover. Kaye and I are going up tomorrow (he wrote in January) to enjoy the vacation X didn't get this summer. That means that I'll sweep off large portions of the ice at Faculty Pond with my prostrate carcass when I go skating. When that gets too strenuous there will be the Browse Room in Baker Library. Kaye and I were among the delighted group that saw the crumbling of the Princeton team in Palmer Stadium last fa 11.".... Jack Little wrote from Cheyenne, Wyoming, which he says is cold and windy in January. It's just as bad in February, Jack. He expects to rejoin our ranks in Washington by April.
Another Grandpa is Gran Fuller, who announced the arrival of Russell Benton Fuller, 22nd December. Said the old gaffer: "Grandmother is beaming and looking younger than ever, although she is very busy taking care of the Mother and little boy. We have one of our rooms fixed up as a nursery and as two of our sons are home from Exeter for the holidays we have quite a houseful. (P.S.) I never expected to be married to a Grandmother." (Well, what do you think she expected, Gran?) While we're speaking of grandpas, Alec Jardine writes: "This thrill of being a Grandpa is almost too much. Now there's the question of whether he'll go to Dartmouth or University of Washington." There's getting to be one on every block in Wellesley Hills. Alec mentioned a Satevepost article on Chet Woolworth's animal trap business in Lititz, Pa. I knew that town because my mother went to boarding school there, and they make milk chocolate and pretzels. By baiting a Lititz pretzel with a piece of milk chocolate, you could make a good trap, but I'll have to get the real lowdown on Chet's gear.
A letter at last from Louis Bell, from Santa Barbara: "I am winding up a very delightful leave at home with my family, 60 days of it. I must return to Fort Lewis, Wash., for various red tape. With reasonable luck I should be back here in Santa Barbara within a month or so. I am regaining my strength. The return trip to the States was on the good ship 'Charles A. Stafford' and quite pleasant. On arrival at New York we were sent to Camp Kilmer, N. J. I had the good luck to wangle a two-day pass to New York which made possible a brief visit with my daughters who had made the trips from Boston and Cleveland to meet me. Immediately thereafter we went west and I wound, up at Madigan General, 1200 miles from Santa Barbara, but I was probably lucky not to have been sent to Florida or Alaska. (Alaskan chambers of commerce please copy.) By good luck we stopped over for seven hours in Denver so that I was able to have a real visit with my old college roommate Ev Parker, and to meet his very charming wife and two of the children. It was a tremendous pleasure for I had not seen Ev since our famous 'Tenth' in 1926. Since my return to Santa Barbara I have had the pleasure of seeing Carl Eskeline, and tomorrow he and his good wife are coming over for a good old-fashioned tea-fight, but I expect that Carl and I will concentrate on the Bourbon rather than on the Orange Pekoe. You can never fully appreciate how much your letter and the round-robin from the Class meant to me last summer, for I felt one Heluva long way from home just then. My wife and I are both feeling reasonably fit these days and I am glad of it, but I can assure you that your letter and the enclosure gave me a real lift just when it was most welcome. We have not fully decided where we shall settle, but at the present I should not be surprised if we located out here in California. My son, Louis Jr., has decided he would like to live out here, and is considering the U. of California or Stanford. 'Esky' has not only a very charming wife, but also a highly personable son, and a very attractive daughter. Both youngsters are presently attending Santa Barbara College of the U. of Cal. They are two fine kids and 'Esky' has every reason to be proud of them." O.K. Louis, but start East in time for the 35th.
George Dock, acknowledging a comment on his Reader's Digest article on coronary diseases, says: "It served one useful purpose in winning me rousing applause among the Dartmouth brethren who ply the homely, slighted life insurance trade. But the most interesting reply I had came from Helsingfoi-s, Finland, from a man who had had coronary troubles at 53 and was forced to abandon his steam baths. This griped him plenty, and in his misery he built a bath that delivered dry heat of over 200° F. and in this snug atmosphere he found that his heart symptoms have vanished and he is smoking (at 200° I think he should have burst into flames) once more and life seems good to him. From do- mestic readers I gather the way to stave off coronary grief is to follow a simple diet of beefsteak and Bourbon. It sounds logical. I am living in Manhattan pending the downturn of the housing inflation, so for the first time in 10 years have no hawks on hand for my vice of falconry, and am obliged to spend my spare hours in urban research." George is an account exec with Fuller and Smith and Ross. His son went from Exeter to Princeton (apparently got on the wrong train—Ed.) and hopes to get back there after his current term of Army service on Oahu." I understand George owns a lot of stocks that he rushed out and bought after reading his own advertising copy.
Jess Fenno, air technician of CAA, has been spending a lot of time in Montreal on official business The Secretary, at the 30th, tried desperately to introduce the song "Aura Lee" among such harmony fiends as Upham and English. They never heard of it. Recently I have been hanging around with some characters known as the S.P.E.B.S.Q.S.A. (Society for the Preservation and Encouragement of Barbershop Quartette Singing in America) and have the music, copy of which has been sent to Jack English for the use of Greater Boston. By 1951 they should have it down cold.
Bob McClure, who gave 29 years to missionary work in China, is now retired, and has been having trouble with his heart. It has been just about that long since we saw Bob, and I know the Class would want to send him a greeting, a wish for complete recovery and the hope that he will join us again in 1951 at the 35th.
FLASH: Lou Cutler, who inspired the song "Dear Old Gal of Mine," read that the royal family of Britain were voyaging to South Africa, and decided to visit Washington. We are polishing up the Library of Congress, Smithsonian, the Capitol dome, and the chandeliers in the East Room of the White House, and tuning up the Marine Band. Daughter Betsey will be with her, and this epoch-making excursion will be reported to you in due course. It will be a relief to see something in the Washington headlines besides atomic bombs.
Fletch Andrews, toastmaster at the banquet of Cleveland's Dartmouth Alumni, reports seeing Carl Holmes, Ed McFalls, Bill McKenzie, and Bill Costello. Welcome back, Bill Costello, and we'll hope to hear more of you
Frank and Helen Bobst, taking a Week in Hanover in January, had dinner with J. Gile and John Stearns and their wives and entertained Jack English Jr., and Sam Cutler Jr. "Both great kids." Young Jack will play piano in the new dance band succeeding the Barbary Coast crowd. Art and Mrs. Conley and Duffy and Mrs. Lewis were also there with young Duffy in tow, looking for a prep school.
A LEARNED DISCOURSE given by Larry Hayward 'l6 may have held other reuners enthralled, but wife Aletha concentrates on her ice cream.
Secretary, 2721 Blaine Drive, Chevy Chase 15, Md. Treasurer, ii Copeland Ave., Reading, Mass.
