1909

Looks like you palsied old men of '09 are 100 shaky to write letters to your class notes editor. The only guy who has taken trouble to put pen on paper is Dutch Thorn who has come so close to the Pearly Gates that he was almost shaking hands with St. Peter (if that's the direction he was headed).

Dutch, after being confined to the hospital in Atlanta last summer, returned to his job as auditor of the Crystal Ball restaurant, Tampa. One afternoon he felt himself slipping fast. He went home and called the doc, his wife and son being out of town. When the doc arrived, Dutch had a 104 temperature, so he was rushed to the veterans hospital in St. Petersburg (what a spot that is for a person who's sick). He had pneumonia. When he came to the next day he was in a ward with nine others. This ward was supposed to be the last earthly stopping place, but Dutch came through. When he wrote, five of the ten had died.

That ain't all, friends. Four days after Dutch got home, he was hit again, this time with double pneumonia, and was flown to Lawson Hospital outside of Atlanta. They curbed the fever, but a final check-up before letting him go home showed that it was necessary to remove his left breast. At the time of writing, Dutch was waiting to hear if the growth was malignant.

Dam if that guy doesn't deserve to live a long time. If any of you birds feel strongenough, write to him at 3107 Wallcraft avenue, Tampa, Fla., and cheer him up by telling him all about your ailments.

Belated condolences to Mickey McLane who has lost his wife, Julia. She had been ill for about a year. Mickey has become a grandfather again. His youngest daughter, Muriel, who is married to Dr. Paul Costello, a pediatrician, gave birth to her third child on, August 17.

Reunion echo. "We had a wonderful reunion," writes Dr. Ben Burpee from his hideaway in Manchester, N. H. "I do not even hold it against you that you mentioned my abdomen. It is nice to be first in something, even if it is only the size of one's stomach."

A letter from Royal Parkinson, secretary of the Class of '05, expresses appreciation for receiving the Diddings containing news of our class memorial services which included his brother, Taintor. "My brother and I," he wrote, "appreciate his class thinking of him so long after his death. He was one fine man whom it was tough to lose."

The beautiful fall days in Aurora have arrived, with the leaves painted different colors. Now they're dropping off the branches and covering the ground with a vari-colored carpet. What does that mean? A lot of raking, chums. Remind me to give my women folks a pep talk.

Lana, our cat, has presented us with four blessed bundles whose eyes are just opening. Pretty soon they'll be scampering all over the place and we'll be cleaning up after 'em, until they get house broken. The Childs girls have named one of them Inner Springs, because the other three are always on top of him. Anybody want a nice kitty in his home?

Junior, our black cat who will be 15 her next birthday (that's equivalent to 105 in human life), has no use for this younger generation of felines. She spits at them, thus showing her contempt and her resentment at the intrusion of the new arrivals. Ain't that like these crochety old dames?

The little woman and I, along with Big John I. Eldridge and his little woman, went over to Ravenna last night to attend a dinner given in honor of the Republican leader of Portage county. Senator Bob Taft was there to give the principal address of the evening. He was on his feet for 40 minutes. If that guy isn't returned to the Senate next year, it'll be a body blow to American democracy. This writer was on the committee that looked after arrangements, his job being publicity chairman for the affair. There was supposed to be room enough for only 325 to sit down to table, but 299 were squeezed in. That reminds me of the time the Dekes bid five freshmen and got seven.

Aurora Men's Club had its fall opening a couple weeks back. The girls of Circle B served a tasty ham dinner in the church parlors. Moving pictures of Aurora's sesquicentennial celebration were on the docket for the evening's bemusement of the members. They were in colors, by gosh. President Mayne Carter announced that Newton D. Baker III would be the speaker at the next meeting. They get some pretty big shots out here to Aurora.

Like I told you bimboes, if you don't roll off the cot and show signs of life in the correspondence department, there's always plenty of news that comes into being in Aurora, the Garden Spot of America. Why, just the other day a kid in the first grade told his teacher, "Me slept with Daddy last night." In correcting his grammar she said, "I slept with Daddy." The kid answered, "You must have crawled in after me went to sleep." Even the kids in Aurora are sharp.

CARDS FROM THE SAME DECK, Walle Ross '09 and his grandson, Tommy Poor, are a pleasant pair of humorists.

THE INTELLECTUALS, '09 VARIETY: Strolling across campus to the '09 picture taking are (I to r) Happy Hal Pratt, Tubby Bird, and Jack Childs.

Class Notes Editor, Pioneer Trail, Aurora, Ohio

Secretary and Treasurer, Sandwich, Mass.