1883

By persistent correspondence I have now finally heard from all of the surviving graduates of my class, only a few, of course in number, at this distant period from graduation.

Their usual silence is readily explained,— physical disability or sensibility of not being able or willing to admit their condition.

Perhaps this may not be strange when the tact appears that the total ages is 354½ years or an average of 88½ years each. The youngest is William F. Carter, Garrett Park, Maryland, 87½ years and the oldest is the secretary, 90½ years of age.

No one of the classmates has written to me himself, but a relative or friend has done so for him.

A friend of Warren A. Bennett, Gloucester, Mass., says for him as his hand trembles so that he cannot well do so:

"I am not feeling well but keep up and around the house with its pleasant memories. I often look at the pictures of my classmates and dwell on those happy days I had the happiness of having."

He says that his son Karl, who is engaged in the Sloane House of Y.M.C.A., in New York City, visited him at Thanksgiving and Christmas. His wife died a few years ago.

The daughter of Willam F. Carter, Mrs. Marion C. Saul, writes for him and encloses a nice snapshot photograph of him. She says:

"I am taking the liberty of writing you because I know that you have written on several occasions and as far as I know have received no replies. Father is always glad to hear from you and intends to write you, but it is so difficult for him to write and for that reason he puts it off from day to day. When he does write he has to steady the hand with the pen with the other hand so it is a rather slow process. I am enclosing a snapshot of him taken in October, 1946. It is a good likeness of him. I imagine he nas changed some since you saw him last which I believe was at your 25th reunion at Hanover in 1908. You may recall that he had his family, a wife and four children, with him at that time. I was one of the children. ....

"That was quite a memorable occasion for all of us. That was the only reunion he ever attended. We had made plans for my brother to go up with him to attend the 60th, I believe, but which had to be cancelled on account of war conditions. Maybe we can arrange for him to attend the 65th this June.

"Father did know of your illness and was quite concerned about you, although you could not know it. I tried to have him write you at that time but he kept putting it off. He said, 'there is always a tomorrow' which indicated his feelings, I suppose. He doesn't realize that sometime there will not be a tomorrow for any of us.

"Father has been fortunate as far as his health is concerned. He boasts that the last doctor he had has been dead over thirty years. He is just as alert mentally as he ever was; reads continually, works cross word puzzles and spends a great deal of time with his postage stamp collection. When the weather is not too bad he makes a trip to the post office.

"In the summer he spends a great deal of time working among his flowers out-of-doors.

"Father has four children, seven grandchildren and four great-grandchildren. Mother died three years ago last August. My husband and I live in the old home with Father."

An employee in the Seattle First National Bank, Seattle, Wash., writes for Edgar H.Sinkey, a long-time Seattle resident who never married, from which I get the following:

He was pleased to hear from me and to hear of the members of the old class still surviving. He receives the Dartmouth AlumniBulletin, and, although he finds it impossible to read it, we try to bring the messages to him as he is very proud of his old alma mater.

Mr. Sinkey's health is not so good. He finds conversation difficult, due to difficulty in breathing. His eyesight is so bad as to make him fear walking lest he fall down. Also, rheumatism and general stiffness of joints make moving around quite a painful process. However, his mind is very clear.

The secretary is probably the most active of the survivors of '83, although the oldest.

He is now recovering from a bad fall on glare ice not recognized, by which he was suddenly thrown down, sustaining injury to his back and right side and cracking one or more ribs.

Secretary and Class Agent, Hartford, Vt.