1934
It seems singularly fitting, in the first few days of this young year, to sing out the news of several recent additions to the ranks of Small Fry Lnlimited, Hatchery Thirtv-Four. Joining proud voices together in their own Great Issue Chorus are some seven or so Dartmouth daddies whose dapper dydee devotees share with young Master 1948 'himself that becoming New Look. Of course, they all aren t brand spang new, but by gosh this is the first we've heard of em. So here goes, in chronological order:
Max Palmer's third daughter. Frances H., became one of the Upper Montclair Palmers on May 15. Roger Jameson Peirce arrived at the Indianapolis address of Hank Peirce on Julv 22. weighing in at 6 lbs. 6 02. Has since picked up 11 pounds and six inches in height, and his pop says it looks like another big lineman for 1969. (Meanwhile Hank is helping the Old School in more immediate ways as secretary of the Indiana Association of Dartmouth Alumni, State Regional Chairman for the Hopkins Center Project and Chairman of the Indiana Association Committee for Interviewing Applicants to Dartmouth. Somewhere in there he sold more than a million dollars of life insurance in 1947 and managed an October trip to Hanover for a Hopkins Center meeting and took in the Harvard game in Boston!). Next '34 baby is Eleanor Gail Thomas who arrived on August 3 to make it two girls and one boy for the El Thomases of Philadelphia. August 11 saw the arrival of Nancy Chamberlin Neill at the Stan Neill's which evens the score there with one and one. (Stan has just come back from a two months' tour of Argentina. Uruguay, Brazil, Chile and Peru where he examined the wool clip and picked up some helpful experience calculated to add that golden tint to his fleece business in Boston.) From Sam Carson in Toledo comes word of daughter Mary's birth, October 5. That gives the gals a two to one advantage over the boy at the Carson's. The booties are strictly blue, however, at the Sig Stern's where Frederick Michael made an auspicious debut on November 4, Election Day. Little chap checked in at 8 lbs. 5 oz. and has a great appetite, says Sig. It's very much a case of boys out in Roseburg, Oregon, too, where Thomas Powers Layzell, 9 lbs. 151/2 oz., joined his seven-year-old brother on November 10. Pappv of course is Bob Layzell the insurance man. Jack Chollar swings us back to the peenk side with a little gal who is reported to have arrived on November 18. We're checking on this for further info.
How's that for an output, eh men? And 'ol Doc Stork isn't going to get much of a breather because in January he has an appointment at the Mike Joseph's in New Rochelle. (Mike has left McCreery's to become veepee and general manager for the D. W. Rogers Cos. department store in Greenwich.) And in March, it'll be Welcome Stranger at the home of another department store exec, Bob Balgley of Hartford. Bob is buyer and department manager of china and glass for G. Fox & Cos., Hartford's biggest.
From Lewiston, Maine, Gard Brown writes:
"Still in the banking business. Still two children (but not two still children!)." And over in Thetford, Vermont, Dick Fou 'le advises "still no spouse or issue" and wonders how many of us are on that fence. Well Dick, that's a fair question and demands a forthright answer, but being of that minority group ourself we're a mite timid about tallying same. Hope to dig up the facts soon, however. Incidentally, by now Dick has probably returned to duty with the Social Security Administration after five years of Army and a short period of recuperation at home.
One other still-single man is Frank Parmelee, and just as well too, for as Latin-American representative for Toledo Scale he is constantly on the move and has been reported to us by at least five guys recently, each from a different country. Frank is doing very well and likes the set-up.
But now, how would you guys like to climbon a magic carpet for a happy hop to Hanover just to see how it feels to be back? Youwould? Okay then. Our aerial axminstertakes the form of a fine letter from JohnFoley, originally destined for Bill Schermanwho passed it along under the so-rightful feeling that it should be shared by all. Everybodyon? Whooooosh!
"For some weeks Mary (whose name appears next to mine on the marriage certificate) and I had dreamed and planned and abandoned and dreamed and planned a trip to Hanover for the week-end of the Brown game. Leaving four kids overnight takes some planning and some courage, but we finally made it.
"Early Saturday morning we beat our way through a bunch of yelling kids and took off for the hills. Once there we had to bear down to find a place to stay for the night so that we didn't get around much before the game, but in driving past the Deke house there was a young fellow on the porch who looked like Bill Scherman and across the street walking towards Commons was 'Happy' Jack Hinsman, so we figured we'd drop into the House after the game and swap a few lies about how smart our kids are.
"Well, Sir! we did just that, albeit some little time after the game. Proudly I escorted my wife up the front stairs, pointing out the obvious improvements towards which I had contributed $2.25, or possibly $2.35, and headed downstairs. In the middle of a comment that they had evidently constructed a smaller stairway to the lower regions, I graciously guided her through the doorway and was extremely embarrassed to find that I had placed her in the phone booth which some demented architect has had built on the old stair well. How can anybody successfully conduct the delicate operation of a quarter on the end of a string in full view of every son of a b and his brother who might come through the front door.
"When I courteously asked one of our young brothers where they had hidden the stairs, he jumped and looked as if he suspected me of being a '34 Deke.
"It seems, as you probably know, they finally got rid of the piano you and Jocko used to play. If we could have persuaded him to play it as you did, instead of with that hammer and beer bottle, it would probably still be there. But, anyway, right where it used to be we discovered a beautiful flight of stairs which looked as if nobody had, or would dare, ever to ski down them and cautiously descending found ourselves once more knee-deep in kids.
"The place looked swell, but in the midst of that mob of noisy kids we suddenly felt old. The only one I recognized was Carl Rood. I hadn't seen Carl since Frankie Donohue gave him his blessings and my hat and put him on a train for a new job many years ago, and I figured that was no place to ask him what become of my hat. A nice young fellow asked me if I was an old Deke and I told him I was just old and looking for the Psi U house so he directed me to the basement of College Hall and I was happy to find the spirit hadn't changed.
"We wandered out of the house and up to the corner. Over on the Commons porch kids were drinking beer and throwing the empty cans at a directional marker on the roadside. The movie posters were missing from the side of the Bookstore. .Slim Connors wasn't around. Time sure has marched.
"But we fooled them! We walked out into the center of the Campus and looking from there at the lights and listening to the sounds (barring the ping! of a beer can here and there) the place was the same. The old folks felt much better.
"I didn't mean to challenge Ben Ames' Williams when I started, but what I was wondering, Will, was were you really there ? Let me know sometime in that green extraction literature which you compose so beautifully in the Spring, like a poet. In the meantime I will assume my eyesight, like other faculties, is blunting under the blows of the years. Hoping you are the same."
Nice trip John, thanks.
Last month's offering proved too wordy for the space allotted and the editors (as wonderful a bunch as ever put up patiently with the futile fumblings of an amateur columnist) were forced to lop off a stray paragraph. This was mailed to us with a polite explanation and referred to as "over-matter," a term which strikes us as somewhat comical when bracketed with the particular paragraph in question. Anyway, here it is again:
Back now to New York where, at a recent regular meeting of the Wall St. Lunch and Lounge Society (Wednesdays at 12:30; call Les Reeve HA 2-1200), Dick Houck told of an intimate brush with fame. Seems a troupe from Hollywood were on location at The Cloisters, an uptown Manhattan museum, shooting scenes for Portrait of Jenny. Suddenly, at a critical point in the proceedings, something serious happened to Jennifer Jones, the star. Something about a rent in her costume; her under costume. But those Hollywood people are resourceful. In no time at all they had commandeered a taxi, acquired a motorcycle escort and sirened down to the Fifth Ave. sales office of Dick's Kingsboro Silk Mills. There a whispered word with that panjandrum of panties was enough to produce the required pink pretties, and the day was saved. Gad! We can hardly wait to see that picture. Also present at the meeting were Les Reeve,George Copp and Bob Smith.
Not so many at the November New York Dinner, but. it was particularly gratifying for such regulars as A 1 Jacobson, Dick Greun, Les Reeve, Art Grimes, Bob Kolbe, Joe Lehmann, George Copp, Bob (W) Smith and the reporter to welcome such returnees to the fold as Hank Werner, NelsKrogslund, and Jamie King, three guys who have been mighty busy of late but for whom our middle of the month date fell just right. Hank is a Wall Streeter, and happy at it too; Nels, with one of the top General Motors dealers in the country, Allen Bros, of Greenwich, told us of his second son, Charles "Weaver, born February 17 last; and Jamie had to bring us up on years of transpirings. He is now with Lederle Laboratories Division of American Cyanamid in Pearl River, N.Y., and lives-at Maple Avenue, Valley Cottage, N.Y.
Few days later, at the Princeton game, it was really Old Home Week with the following glimpsed at one time or another: Bob Ford, Bob (W.) Smith, Les Reeve, Al Jacobson, Dick Gruen, Hank "Werner, Jerry Danzig, Herb. Steyn, Vin Muti, Bob Brown, Harry Ingram, Fred Wolf, Charlie Mills, Bill Scherman, Orv Dryfoos, Gail Raphael, Ted Thompson, Don Sandy, George Copp, Mac Collins, and probably several more who escaped the dimming eyes of our Palmer Stadium shamus.
And so we ring down another gossip periodwith a grateful word of thanks for your lettersand the hope that we'll be seeing you overthis same back fence again next month. G'bye.
Secretary and Treasurer no Fulton St.. New York 7, X. Y.
