Article

The Undergraduate Chair

March 1948 John P. Stearns '49
Article
The Undergraduate Chair
March 1948 John P. Stearns '49

WITH BOSTON and New York newspapers and magazines working full blast, few of the details of the recent Winter Carnival remain untold. This, the last account, is unfortunately no repetition: this is some of the story of Carnival as seen through the eyes of the undergraduates who built it.

Early in the afternoon of Friday, February 13, a light snow started to fall. At dusk, it had turned to sleet. By 7:30, the starting hour for Outdoor Evening, the sky had let loose completely; snow, sleet and rain poured indiscriminately into the puddle that was Hanover.

The miserable mixture threatened to poison an otherwise highly palatable concoction. Its riddling blast left the 35-foot snow phantom in campus center looking like a smallpox convalescent in misted limelight; many of the smaller fraternity and dormitory statues were hit even worse. At least 1800 couples sloshed to shelter or drowned submissively.

A Dartmouth Outing Club whose 38th Winter Carnival was just beginning went quietly mad.

For a while the best-laid plans of Winter Carnival Committee, active since the preceding spring, seemed done for. On Memorial Field, the middle 20 yards of McLaughry's battleground had been frozen into a great skating rink; its 30-yard length would stretch out towards almost 6000 seats in the main stands cleared of snow for spectators of Outdoor Evening, Carnival's lead-ofE spectacle. Embracing the rink's far end, a jagged snow peak backdrop reared 30 feet high and sprawled back the same distance. On it multi-colored lighting was to play.

Designs by Irving W. Tuttle '48 had become attractive scenery through the work of John R. Barr '49, director of Outdoor Evening, and his assistants when the devil rain came. Things began happening fast. Twenty-six professional and amateur skaters, from Ottawa, Boston and Hanover, stood ready to perform in the first part of the show. They glided out, not on the smooth, indoor ice to which most were accustomed, but on a mush which had picked up three inches of water by the end. Of necessity, daring jumps and intricate maneuvers were out; a surprisingly large and thoroughly chilled crowd found the 16 acts somewhat stock routine, a little repetitious. And, even at that, they began to run longer than scheduled.

Barr, expecting the skaters, many of them feminine, to start throwing professional catfits, was pleasantly surprised. In scanty costumes, they went out and improvised to the agreed-upon music without a murmur. Jane Weiss, the star, for whom conditions were especially bad, showed fine sportsmanship.

"Their costumes are still drying out," Barr mused three days later; "I hope the girls have thawed."

As two lighting circuits blew out, however, and an unanticipated intermission was called to shovel slush away, the crowd grew restive. It was waiting for the Queen's crowning, the climax event. Suddenly, its impatience was frustrated.

A committee member had delayed the Queen and her court in Davis Field House, knowing the schedule was off. At last he dared hold them no longer;, a 42-girl piocession started snaking across the gridiron - 15 minutes early.

One panic-stricken stagehand, seeing them coming, thought the moment had arrived. A skating act was just closing; in the lightless interim before the next, he scuttled out on the ice stage back of the rink with Her Majesty's-throne. Returning spots and a new skater found him still on the platform, neatly arranging a cushion of bearskins from Wilson Museum.

Spectators cheered, then were puzzled. Barr, in a booth on the other side of the rink, almost lost his mind. Any other communication with the far end failing, he left his post, scampered frantically around the rink, and hauled away the throne himself in the next dark period.

Finally, Joan Parr of Montreal, date of Hugo Schnabel Jr. '42, was solaced for her long and patient dripping with a crown; her court was hailed; the finale and exodus began.

Fifteen harried members of the Carnival Committee held an emergency meeting that night to talk the deluge over. They heard John A. Rand, Director of D.0.C., tell of the telephone calls which had been coming in for some time, asking if Saturday events would be canceled or if ticket money would be refunded. They decided that only one thing would cut short the Carnival: conditions endangering athletes' life and limb.

(The motto adopted for the weekend by the Outing Club earlier had been—l paraphrase—" The watchword of Carnival is the safety of competitors.")

Saturday was still a close squeak. "If it had turned cold sooner after it rained Friday night, the jump would have been icy and too dangerous for competition," commented Dean S. Worth '49 later. Worth, with James H. Smith '49 and John R. Zillmer '48, headed those handling winter sports competition for the Committee. Jumping would be the most vitally menaced event: the slalom course can always be tamped down just before a race begins. As it was, such work was necessary. Double the usual number of gate-keepers were posted on the run, to clear it after each contestant had passed. With that, and with "wonderful cooperation from faculty, townspeople and students—including some Clark School boys and some Norwich townsmen—in tramping," the slalom was delayed but not postponed or written off entirely.

Other activities of the Club not so directly impinged upon by the weather came off with even smoother success. Particularly noteworthy was the new method of selecting candidates for Queen of the Snows, which Richard P. Nickelsen '47, Director of Features, feels has met with general approval.

In past practice, the Queen's Court had been chosen by an average of three judges as dates trooped through the Outdoor Evening gates; the 30 or so elite then had followed the judges off behind a snowbank on the site, had been interviewed briefly there in the open and had marched back to the stage with their triumphant Queen.

This Carnival, Nickelsen explained, the Court was chosen by 15 Undergraduate Council delegates, who scoured dormitories, fraternities, athletic events and Hanover eateries Friday morning and afternoon, issuing invitations to be judged to likely looking dates. An hour before Outdoor Evening began, the candidates left their escorts at the Field House doors, and passed before the leisurely evaluation of five judges: Lowell Thomas, Robert E. Keene '30, James E. O'Neil '46, Palaeopitus head, Harlan B. Brumsted '46, Carnival Committee chairman, and Malcolm McLane '46, captain of the ski team.

Mr. Thomas, in Hanover to give four nationwide broadcasts, did all the talking with the girls, successfully putting them at ease; other judges watched and deliberated. Mr. Keene, of Hewitt, Keene and Patston, New York photographers, made particularly helpful suggestions as to photogenic qualities. The group narrowed candidates down to eight, then made a final and unanimous decision.

As result of the new system, more representative selection of the Court was possible, and more careful rating. And even the Court, "without any flattery, a very swell bunch of girls," to quote Nickelsen, "were all very satisfied" with the choosing.

Mr. Thomas' presence, "something unique and worthwhile," was also pleasantly apparent at all ski events, of which he took movies, and at the Competitors' Banquet Saturday night, where he presented individual and team prizes for all DOC events. "The most thrilling moment of the entire Carnival," in Brumsted's opinion, came when the visitor, listing the names of ski-jump winners, reached the third man, announcing "And here's a name that's hard to read: Lowell Thomas Jr." His son had been the only member of the runner-up Dartmouth squad to place in any event.

Not quite so rosy a view was taken by the Committee of student help received in Carnival preparation. In spite of intensive solicitation by Director of Personnel Richard M. Hook '49, reaching all probable sources by personal contact, and in spite of herculean effort from . the 477, mostly freshmen, cooperating (not counting the work of Committeemen themselves, a minimum of 820 man hours went into the campus statue, of 849 into the Outdoor 'Evening set) the supply fell short. The statue had to be left unfinished and in somewhat unsatisfactory state.

Generally, however, Brumsted summed up the Committee's rumination in the view, "The most important aspect of Carnival is running a good ski meet I think we achieved that goal."

And for the future? Soon after the present Committee finishes a report on its work, a new one will be appointed to start preparing the 39th Winter Carnival. As one of the retiring members says, "You can't do too much advance planning."

With no intention of slighting their contribution, I have been forced to omit consideration of the work of the following unmentioned Committee members: Roger S. Brown '45, D.O.C. President (ex officio); Hugh M. Chapin '48, Tickets and Finance; Lawrence K. Coachman '47, Police; Eugene Gottesman '49, Entertainment; Burton H. Hicock '45, Equipment; Prof. Allan H. Macdonald, Faculty Advisor; Ray L. Powers '49, Publicity; Phillip R. Viereck '48, C&T Chairman.

CARNIVAL QUEEN AND A KNOWING JUDGE: Miss Joan Parr, 22-year-old brunette from Montreal, who reigned over the 38th Winter Carnival, poses with Lowell Thomas, news commentator and chief of the board of judges, after she had been chosen from a Court of Beauty of 42 lovely damsels.

PICKING THE CARNIVAL QUEEN FROM THIS BEVY OF BEAUTY GAVE THE JUDGES A REAL JOB.

SNOW STATUES AND SPEED SKATING, two traditional events of Winter Carnival, again held prominent spots this year. Top, Butterfield's winning dorm statue, "Old Man Winter," with Al Graves '47, its designer, putting on the finishing touches. Second, Delta Tau Delta's winning fraternity statue, "Hospitable Delt." Third, Russell Sage's dorm runner-up, a statue of Jacko dogs, gets a genuine canine inspection. Bottom, speedskating event on Occom Pond, where Dartmouth finished second to Rutgers but ahead of St. Michael's.

SNOW STATUES AND SPEED SKATING, two traditional events of Winter Carnival, again held prominent spots this year. Top, Butterfield's winning dorm statue, "Old Man Winter," with Al Graves '47, its designer, putting on the finishing touches. Second, Delta Tau Delta's winning fraternity statue, "Hospitable Delt." Third, Russell Sage's dorm runner-up, a statue of Jacko dogs, gets a genuine canine inspection. Bottom, speedskating event on Occom Pond, where Dartmouth finished second to Rutgers but ahead of St. Michael's.

SNOW STATUES AND SPEED SKATING, two traditional events of Winter Carnival, again held prominent spots this year. Top, Butterfield's winning dorm statue, "Old Man Winter," with Al Graves '47, its designer, putting on the finishing touches. Second, Delta Tau Delta's winning fraternity statue, "Hospitable Delt." Third, Russell Sage's dorm runner-up, a statue of Jacko dogs, gets a genuine canine inspection. Bottom, speedskating event on Occom Pond, where Dartmouth finished second to Rutgers but ahead of St. Michael's.

SNOW STATUES AND SPEED SKATING, two traditional events of Winter Carnival, again held prominent spots this year. Top, Butterfield's winning dorm statue, "Old Man Winter," with Al Graves '47, its designer, putting on the finishing touches. Second, Delta Tau Delta's winning fraternity statue, "Hospitable Delt." Third, Russell Sage's dorm runner-up, a statue of Jacko dogs, gets a genuine canine inspection. Bottom, speedskating event on Occom Pond, where Dartmouth finished second to Rutgers but ahead of St. Michael's.

A CARNIVAL INNOVATION was effected this year by shifting Outdoor Evening from the golf course to Memorial Stadium. Here is a view of the stadium set on which skaters performed for a large crowd.