1948
Well, and it's a deep subject—that's no joke—, it's October here in Hanover once again, and the old campus has taken on its full fall glory. The green is really green, the elms around its edge are colored like one of those modern surrealistic paintings, and the whiteness of Dartmouth Hall in the afternoon sunlight stands over the whole scene like a sentinel guarding a cherished memory. There's a sort of brisk snappiness in the air, and the spirit of the student body seems to be one of, "Let's get outside and do something before the snow comes and closes everything up tight."
The old traditions are still in force, far more so than when we first came to Dartmouth, and all the freshmen wear their beanies, in the words of a soph, "religiously and willingly." The sophomore "Vigilantes" have really been turning the pressure on the hapless '53s, many a frosh can be seen drooping around with a quarter head of hair, and it looks as though the "rush" this coming Monday afternoon ought to be a battle for revenge on the part of the freshmen. The "rush," by the way, will be a little different this year. Instead of footballs, the objective will be a log with eight 150 foot ropes attached to it on opposite sides. The freshmen and sophomores will get on their respective sides of the log and try to pull the other class across the center line. Meanwhile, a fire hose is played over the log, ana then turned on the losing side. Ought to be a great place for a wet smack. "Oh, those soft September sunsets."
Tomorrow, the Green plays its first home game of the season against Holy Cross. Already the town is filled up with returning alumni and visitors; hawkers are standing out on the sidewalks, pigeonholing passing students and their eager dates, making the fellow feel like Shylock if he doesn't buy her at least half the stadium; and Admiral Ferguson is keeping an eagle eye on the scene from his post by the blinker. All in all, it's fall and football season again, one of those times when "those hours that pass like dreams" seem to fly by like Wormwood passing in the night.
Pardon the above reflections, but I felt a slight glimpse, imperfect as it is, of Hanover now wouldn't be too out of place, in fact might bring back a few pleasant memories. May the town always remain as it is.
Early September saw an influx of '48s at the Inn. Must have been like a small class reunion. Mr. and Mrs. Austin H. Gedney (Bud to you), newlyweds, were there for a couple of days, I presume on their honeymoon. They were married in Mamaroneck on September 4. The bride is the former Virginia Appel of Sleepy Eye, Minn. Bud is with the Biow Advertising Agency in N.Y.C., and the couple are living in Mamaroneck.
Al Becker and AI Epstein were both at the Inn on Sept. 4 and 5. I wasn't around Hanover at the time, so didn't get any information from them as to any deviltry they may be raising.
Jerry Ludington, because of the pressure of his business duties and consequent lack of time, has felt he had better drop his Class Agent job. Lud said he's just too busy to do the job as he'd like to do it, so has resigned rather than do a mediocre task. Thanks for all you have done, Lud, and I hope you'll find the pressure eased a bit now.
Last week, Rod Susen and his lovely new wife, Jamie, came to town. They, too, were on their honeymoon. Rod has taken over Lud's thankless job of Class Agent. He'll be looking for some assistant agents among you soon, so hope you'll help him out. Best of luck, Rod.
Quite a few of the class are still around town, although there seem to be more in the grad schools here than in the College itself. Reg Tenney, Jack Hamilton, and Gino Pierleoni, three really old-time '48s, who date from the days when the civilian section of the College was composed of Wheeler, Richardson and Crosby, are the Grand Old Men of Hitchcock Hall where they room together in 205. Walt Cairns and Al McAllister give '48 a 100 per cent majority in their room in Chase. Walt is first-year Tuck-Thayer, while Mac is finishing up Tuck this year. And Al tells me that Sam Katz one night in Paris last summer was suddenly grabbed from behind as if by a mugger. When Sam finally managed to turn around, he found himself staring up at Dirk Kuzmier. Sam, by the way, somehow finds time between classes at second-year Med School to write the column of movie previews in The Dartmouth. He doesn't like many movies, and it may possibly have been he who recently described one of the shows as "like being hit over the head with an enema bag."
While walking down the street the other day, I ran into Stan Churchill. Stan just got married a few weeks ago, and he and his bride are living in Sachem. He gave me all the details about his wife, the wedding, etc., which I wrote down on a paper bag. Then I lost the bag, so can't give any more information than this.
Bud Robertson is another '48 who left the bachelor ranks. He and the former Paula MacDowell of Worcester were married last June. They now live in Wigwam while Bud finishes up his course at Tuck-Thayer.
Frank Stern writes from Europe that he and his Norwegian wife, Lelle, toured the North Cape, Sweden, and Finland this summer. In September they moved down to Zurich and are going to study a year there. Frank met Lelle last year while he was studying in Oslo, and writes, "Lelle can't wait to see Hanover since I talk so much of Dartmouth and the Dartmouth family."
Guess that's about all there is for now. If any of you have run into any of your classmates recently or have heard any amusing incidents about any of them, I'd appreciate hearing from you. So long until next month.
Secretary, Elm St., Norwich, Vt.
Treasurer, Phi Kappa Psi House, Hanover, N. H
