1932
This is the column that ends with a wish for a happy summer for all. When the next installment appears the summer will be over, Hanover's hills will be thrilling with autumn's hues, and the television sets will be tuned to the gridiron instead of the diamond. Between now and then I hope to have driven our family around a good deal of New England in the new all-green Pontiac station wagon we just ordered. If anyone is going to be spending time in spots away from home in those parts, like Cape Cod, I'd surely like to know it so we could pay a call en route. A word about that new car: it's the first car I've bought since 1936, when I acquired the 1935 Ford convertible coupe we've been so happy and cozy in all these years. Worry not; we're keeping it still, for the like of it will not be seen soon again.
The coming of the end of the column-year leads me to take a look back at the output of the past few months. I am amazed at the number of different classmates actually mentioned, despite the fact that I received no more than about ten letters the whole year. In October, with a number of miscellaneous items accumulated during the summer, I succeeded in mentioning 14. In November I got over 50 names in—but the news was all 15 years old. In that column I threatened to make up some news if I got nothing from you guys the next month, so it isn't surprising that the December column had a swell letter from Joe (Blow), who had travelled around a good deal, seeing several classmates on the way. One reader said it sure was a swell letter, but who was it from? I was disconcerted in January, because I had received a letter. It was from Mary Chandler, who really has been a faithful helper. In February things were back to normal, but a kind soul loaned me a letter he had gotten from Alex Christie with lots of news about his summer's move to Texas. The contrariness of things is shown by what happened in March, when I was supposed to prepare a short column, but was blessed with two lengthy letters to print. Needless to say, they were my salvation for the April column, which I had to write when I was so tired out. Come May, and it was time to put in a word for the Alumni Fund.
It is still time for that. John Keller has said all that should need be said, but I have my own little pile of statistics on this subject, which I am prepared to share. Our quota for this year is $2,111 more than we gave last year, when there were 36! givers. If each one of them gives $5 more this year, and if just two-thirds of last year's non-givers come through with a mere $5, we'll be over the top. I am operating with this in mind, increasing my own gift by $5 and vigorously working to get one of last year's non-givers to come through with five bucks. Any of you who have not done these two things yet have until June 30 to produce. Incidentally, you can measure your own quota by noting that the average gift last year was $18. If everyone in the class gave $19 this year, we'd make our goal. Since about half of the first hundred gifts are under that figure, you can see where your duty lies. Meanwhile, give plenty of thanks to Warren Moore and his teammates for the effort they put into moving this cautious, taciturn gang of ours to the respectable showing we have made. I think note should also be taken of the substantial number who have gone into the $100 and over group; congratulations to them, both for their decision and their ability to give that much.
The spring dinners of the Clubs usually bring members of our class together. The Washington affair, however, was attended only by Bill Brister and me. Joe Fanelli and I were elected to the executive committee of the Club, however, and we look forward with interest to learning what the duties are. The dinner in New York had a better '32 turnout, with Hosmer,Chandler, Hubbard, MacKenzie, Hazen,Englander, Bartlett, Dublin, Max Wolff, Rushmore and Whitehair. Jay was at the speakers' table in his capacity as newly-elected president of the Westchester Alumni. Al Zinggeler, if he could have made it, would also have been at the speakers' table, for he is president of the New Jersey group. Walt Rushmore is V.P. of the Long Island Club. Out of the news exchanged at the dinner came the announcement that the Chandlers have moved to a new home in Port Washington, Long Island. They have a nice slope in their back yard, and are near the Plandome golf course, which may or may not have good greens, as far as Mary knows, but does have the best ski slope on the Island. Chaqu'un a son gout, they say; I once knew a duffer who liked the High Ridge Country Club because it had narrow greens but lots of wild strawberries in the rough.
I received the happy news that the DickClarkes had a son on March 28, 1950.
I happened to meet Newell Goldberg in the lobby of the Wardman Park Hotel in April. He had been on a vacation trip southward from the Boston area with his wife and a couple of friends. Frequently on occasions like this I learn that many wives of our classmates read the class notes fairly regularly. It leads me to urge once more that letters be written by some of these wives. They could give just as much news about the family as any of us, and in most cases there would be a spice that is lacking from the standard report. Let no one think it unseemly to be writing to "another man"; remember that we're all brothers in 32. I'd also like to start hearing about the old men from some of the 16-year-olds and over in the class: Whitehair, Swenson, Jeffery and Bowman are names that come immediately to mind, Tvithout looking up the record. My motto for next year: more copying; less composing.
Have a good summer.
Secretary, 3909 North sth Street, Arlington, Va. Treasurer, 144 Brixton Rd., Garden City, N. Y. Class Agent, 3448 81st St., Jackson Heights, L. I., N. Y.
