1932

Late in September we smelled smoke in our apartment. I examined the basement—we have a duplex plus—and found it filled with pungent fumes, coming from outside. Investigation showed that the oil furnace under the adjoining apartment was flaming all around its base. I then became a hero to my offspring by putting in a fire alarm, by 'phone. No sooner had I replaced the instrument than the sirens began in the distance, and soon the street in front of our building was filled with the flashing red lights of the engines and police cars. Everything was soon under control, with damage limited to the furnace and the entry. You would think that was enough, but no. About a week later as I drove home from the office at 6:30 I saw the street outside our place once more filled with engines and prowl cars. Again the furnace was blazing merrily, and again the neighborhood kids were in seventh heaven. What, a show! There's nothing like it, not even the World Series on the neighbors' television sets, to make them happy, from the ten-year-old boy through the eight-year-old girl to the three-and-a-half "baby" girl, who insisted she wasn't scared as she clung to our necks.

While mentioning children, I note thai there is still a general impression in the outside world that Virginia schools are intolerable for the scions of the educated. Perhaps the average is, but Arlington County is different. Our two older children go to the nearby public school, but we feel as though they're getting the benefit of a forward-looking private institution. They introduced men this year as teachers in three of the fifth and sixth grade classes, with great success. My son's class of ten-year-olds got a former football player and ex-paratrooper. It's a background that helps hold a boy's interest, and we hope the draft won't end it. Julia, who's eight, has an English girl who is spending a year in this country studying our elementary school teaching methods. Nothing could so painlessly have broadened the horizons of the kids in her class. In other ways, too, schools today are different. They've had radios in some of the rooms, tuned in to the Series. It's surprising, but the natural result is that the pupils like to go to school. So do the parents; never have I heard of such active parent participation through the P.TA.

At risk of being deemed a solipsist I'll go on with my own experiences. I went to see BobRyan in Born To Be Bad the other evening and found myself enjoying it. The reviewers in the Washington papers rapped it so hard that I feel as though maybe I ought to be ashamed of myself. I'm not, though, and I think the professional reviewers suffer from seeing too many movies. They don't look for what I want. If a story isn't good and the settings and acting aren't sophisticated, they condemn them as "weary mishmash" or "replete with tired wisecracks, parlor talk and bearded cliches." That's what they said about Born to Be Bad, and I can see what they mean. But if you go to a movie once a month primarily for the sake of two hours of vacation from the real world around you, that was just your dish. I was glad the poor working girl was living in a "lush, lavish" apartment, and something in me responded while I watched my classmate neck and neck again with Joan Fontaine. She's the one "born to be bad," a lovely scheming witch. In this picture our Bob is a good guy, "the novelist, rough, ready, honest, clean, loyal, brave and whatever else a good Boy Scout ought to be," who tells Joan he doesn't make dates with other men's wives unless they bring written permission from their husbands. I thoroughly enjoyed Bob's performance. He uses expressions well to show feelings. After a particularly heated clinch, Joan tells him she's going to marry the rich guy, and Bob's look was a convincing reflection of angry, anguished disappointment. Why he didn't realize how lucky he was isn't clear to the local reviewers, but it didn't take the revival of crude Hollywood symbolism to explain it to me. I got it the first time Bob laid his eyes on her and modestly said, "If she played her cards right, she could win me."

The 36 members of the class who attended the dinner in New York on September 19 set some kind of modern record for attendance. Three club presidents were among the group: linggeler of Northern New Jersey, Rushmore of Long Island, and Whitehair of Westchester. Most were planning to join the picnic outside the Yale Bowl on November 4; if you read this before the game, be sure to look for '32 signs in the main, official parking area. The following were at the dinner: Art Allen, Altman,Bartlett, Burrows, Chandler, George Collins,Larry Collins, Corbett, Couzens, Dublin, Engender, Fendrich, Fox, Gardner, Goodman,Harper, Bob Harrison, Hosmer, Hubbard, LaVine, Mayes, Morton, Jim Moore, Marcus,Mackenzie, Newfang, Rushmore, Sack, CharlesScott, Weinseimer, Weisenfluh, Max Wolff,John Wolff, Whitehair, Wentworth and Zinggeler.

Deke Mack has been promoted by the SEC to be Assistant Director of the Division of Corporate Finance. He has been in the Division since 1935, except tor his war service. Don MacPhail has become deputy to the director of the legislative reference division of the U.S. Budget Bureau and, sed non sequitur, has moved from an apartment to a house. I guess I was promoted, too, although it's a little hard to distinguish the difference. I was the Deputy Assistant Legal Adviser for Economic Affairs in the State Department. For about a year I was Acting Assistant Legal Adviser for Economic Affairs. Now I am Assistant Legal Adviser for Economic Affairs. All three titles involved the same work and the same salary, but I have no kick.

Warren Moore has asked to be relieved of the Class Agent's job. It's hardly necessary to say anything about the kind of a job it is; I'm sure we all appreciate the amount of time and devotion it takes. You should be interested in the record of the class contributions during Warren's service, however. We have improved each year, so that this year we gave about $3000 more than the year he took the job. The number of contributors rose from 347 to 364, out of a potential 450. Our percentage of objective was 67% in 1947; 81% in '48; 84% in '49 and 86% in 1950. These results show that we can improve and provide a nice challenge for the lucky guy who is brave enough to take over from Warren. Let's give them both a wah-hoo-wah.

Secretary,: 3909 North sth Street, Arlington, Va. Treasurer, 144 Brixton Rd., Garden City, N. Y. Memorial Fund Chairman, 99 White Plains Rd., Bronxville, N. Y.