1916
In accordance with my time-honored custom, to which Secretary of Defense Louis Johnson has interposed no objection, since he knows nothing about it, I am writing these notes during my 24-hour watch in the Admiral's office, from 8 a.m. Christmas Eve to 8 a.m. Christmas morning, not a very good time to be in an office but somebody has to be stuck with it.
Several classmates, answering my desperate appeal for help in covering the activities of such an accomplished group as 1916, have graciously sent me clippings about the appointment of Dick Parkhurst to the multiple jobs of president of the Mystic Terminal Company and General Manager of the Marine Terminals of the Boston and Maine Railroad. This puts Dick on the spot where land and sea transportation meet and involves vast responsibility for the profitable operation of properties representing millions of dollars of investments. Dick's prior experience, as well as his stable temperament, should enable him to handle his jobs without getting ulcers, and the Class will again bask in the credit reflected by Dick's prominent position in the world of transportation.
Frank Cowan, our only class member in Salt Lake City, sent me a small and not too distinct, but very interesting snapshot taken in New Hamp freshman year. He asks me if I can identify Cliff Bean, Cutler, Doenecke and Opie Friend. Well, I can make Sam out all right, but the others I have to guess at, although there is a possibility that DanLindsley and Chuck Durgin are in there. Incidentally, with this snapshot Frank sent me a Christmas card showing two sleighs approaching each other and heading towards a sure traffic accident. If the big sleigh gets over the delicate bridge without breaking through it is still going to crash the smaller sleigh. Also, the little girl being towed behind the big sleigh on her little sled is taking an awful chance. If anything happens, I want it understood it is Frank's responsibility.
Freddie St. George Smith, who climbed past us with Kay in the Princeton Stadium, is already making his plans for June. Right now he has a bad knee from a fall on the ice, but is looking forward with mixed pleasure and trepidation to reunion and much loss of sleep. Freddie is even getting philosophical about George Pratt, and encouraged by Kay, is resigned to going home from Hanover next June in a semi-delapidated condition. He has been sounding out various people in New York about Reunion, but reports it is a "cold town," and enthusiasm not yet worked up. "What are they waiting for?" queries Freddie. And echo replies: "What?"
Remember Bruce Ludgate 'l7, who really belongs in the next column? Bruce, although a member of that nondescript outfit chivvied around by Ernie Earley, was a very congenial guy two and a half decades ago, and probably still is. He noticed my letter in the ALUMNI MAGAZINE and wrote me suggesting I stop off and see him the next time I brush through Philadelphia. This I shall admire for to do. I also have a bid to stop over and have an argument with Phil Nordell and have that on my list, although my sojourn at the Naval Hospital while I was enjoying a heart attack will probably make the big brass look with a jaundiced optic on any applications from me for more time off.
Bill McKenzie reports a phone conversation with Johnnie Pell whom he was ensnaring to come over for a weekend at Akron at the McKenzie hacienda. However, John is working about 7 days a week on an industrial plant and can't or won't get away from the job until it is finished.
This will give official notice to the world at large that in spite of my youthful looks and Barrymoorish frame I am a double grandfather, in the class of old phoofs like Gran Fuller. Betty, with some infinitesimal assistance from me, largely in the way of advice, took care of Miss Washington Jr., while her mother gave birth to little brother. The father being a Cornell man, I fear both of these kids are a dead loss to Dartmouth, although the boy may grow up independent and decide he wants to go to an educational institution.
One happening of world-shaking importance slipped by us all some time in the past with a secrecy that has the Atomic Energy Commission tearing its hair with envy. JakeMensel, the perpetual and perennial bachelor, compared to whom the other class bachelors of long standing were veritable Tommy Manvilles, is married. This came to me in a roundabout way,; Jake being the absolutely last guy in the world to write a letter about anything, and he has maintained a silence on this event that would make the Sphinx seem like Gracie Allen. Jake, as the confidante of your youth, and as admirer of the great industrial complex of Mensel & English Furniture-Bought-and-Sold, we own to a feeling of thwarted sensibilities at your failure to consult with us on this important development in your career. In other words, how come, Jake?
Dan Dinsmoor wrote me that rain was falling in Los Angeles, and that everybody liked it except the people who wanted a dry field for the professional football game. Says Dan: "It is hard to believe that it is Christmas with no snow or cold and roses growing in the backyard, and with family and friends 3000 miles away."
A letter from Shorty Hitchcock contains what may be old news by the time this reaches you, but it is interesting anyway, so I'll give it to you: , "Last August 26 I went on a Dartmouth deep sea fishing trip. There were a lot of nice fellows, the fishing was lousy, but we all enjoyed it. I guess I was the oldest living alumnus aboard. I found a pleasant 1917-er, Lionel Tefft, who lives here in Altadena. I think the only 1916 fisherman is LewHowell. I saw him coming ashore from a deep sea trip at our Captistrano Beach pier one day last fall. Enjoyed a luncheon several months ago at the Jonathan Club, when Alex ]ardine was here. About five of 1916 were there. Unfortunately I had appointments in the afternoon and felt restrained from wassail and song. I imagine the brothers carried on all right and I trust Alex was satisfactorily poured on his plane. Louie Bell threw the waiter for a loss when he ordered 'Bourbon and crick water.' . . This fall I sort of felt my age and developed a distaste for crowds, so I took all my football via television. Incidentally, that is the only comfortable way to see a game. Regards to the fellow Balmacaaneers."
Bill McKenzie tells me Ev Parker reported to him that his argosy of last fall was a great success. The Parkers saw at least three football games, visited in Massachusetts and Connecticut and enjoyed night life in New York, visited friends at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore, and ended up in Williamsburg, where he not only enjoyed visiting the restored buildings, but had three suits and an overcoat stolen. They continued on to Yorktown, Va., West Virginia, Kentucky and on home to Denver, just in time to send me a box of Colorado celery, which I have been munching off and on at the Pentagon. You should hear it echo down these long corridors. The only bad thing about Ev and Clare's trip is that it may keep them from coming East again for reunion in June. But it was fine to see them on this trip.
The Class now has a Reunion Committee, with Jim Coffin, of 27 Concord St., Nashaway, En Aitch, and the members of the Committee: Rod Soule, Cap Carey, Larry Hayward,Bob Brown, Joe Newmark, Hobey Baker, GilTapley, Ken Tucker, Ted Walker, Dick Ellis,Red Kimball, Jib Dingwall, Ruby McFalls,Pete Cleaves, Ev Parker, Ed Knight, DanDinsmoor, Ken Henderson and F. S. Wilson. And, of course, if anything goes wrong, we can always call in Cliff Bean.
I started these notes Christmas Eve and am finishing them on New Year's Eve, so although this greeting will get to you when 1950 is well out on the track, I wish all of you a happy, prosperous and healthful New Year, and the ability to take it as it comes. And because it comes late this wish will be automatically extended to February 1, 1951.
Secretary, 2721 Blaine Drive, Chevy Chase 15, Md. Treasurer, 370 S. Westmoreland Ave., Los Angeles 5, Calif. Class Agent, 97 Mayfield Ave., Akron 3, Ohio
