1909
Eddie Chamberlain '36, the Exec Officer of the College, was in Cleveland on January 31 to speak at the annual dinner of the Cleveland Alumni Association. Although a comparatively young buck who's got all his hair which is the same color as when he was in college, he acquitted himself like a veteran, presenting the problems which confront our alma mammy graphically and objectively. The guy's got it.
I happened to be the oldest bird on the job which is not unusual when I attend Dartmouth gatherings these days. When I called Solly Solomon to see if he'd be there he said no, that he was allergic to tobacco smoke. I thought at the time that he'd never make a politician, what with that "smoke-filled room stuff" that goes with the racket. Solly, too, had just got back from Chi where his daughter had presented him with a grandchild. The only other guy in my time was Gene Gardner '11, brother of Larry, our class. Gene sang in the Glee Club in our day, pinch-hitting for Mort Hull on the quartet. He said that Larry was still living in Montclair, N. J.
Many of our class will remember when Wellsted and Gardner hit college. They were somewhat of a sensation as entertainers, pulling their stuff as a piano-singing team in the commons lounge early in their freshman year. Gardner quit college after a couple of years, and Wellsted carried on to make a name for himself in dramatic circles, as well as collaborating with Harry Wellman in putting together the Promenaders, one of the annual prom shows. Now he's a partner in Ball, Burge & Kraus, members of the New York Stock Exchange, with a change of clothes for every day in the week, including Sunday. Pete Ball, senior partner who's a Yale guy, told me one day that Wellsted was a brain, and I guess he's right.
The Dartmouth dinner was held in the middle of the second big snow storm to hit these parts, but 80 loyal alumni showed up, including three of us from the classic village of Aurora. Tom Douglas '44, who was captain of the football team in college and a swell young fella, drove Eddie Malz '19, and me back home, doing a professional job of maneuvering through the snowswept thoroughfares.
AH, THE ALUMNI FUND!
At a meeting of the Alumni Council on January 19 members voted to make the objective of the Alumni Fund campaign a cool half-million bucks for this year. The quota of '09, naturally, will have to be raised. That means that all of us will have to dig deeper into the old kick and come up with more dough than we've been wont to give in the past. The small givers will have to increase their ante. More big donors will be needed. It's a gallant cause, men, the perpetuation of the privately endowed colleges which can well be the bulwark against the approach of state socialism which destroys initiative, moral courage and all of the fine qualities that have been responsible for the growth of America. Class Agent Ralph Clement and his cooperative cohorts are going to have to do a first class job of selling to fully arouse (pardon the split infinitive) our classmates to fighting fever. Give 'em the help they need.
HOWARD MAKES THE NEWS
A special bulletin to the New York Journalof Commerce gave out the news that Eliot R.Howard had been elected a director of the Mutual Fire Insurance Co., of Sac©, Me. Classmates will remember Eliot as quiet and unassuming, not flamboyant like Shoppelry. Now a resident of Concord, Mass., he occupies the exalted position of President of the Middlesex Mutual Fire Insurance Co. At the time of our 25th reunion Eliot was secretary and vice president of the same company.
Jim Greenebaum and his Mrs. have been on the prowl again. A card from Miami Beach (what a nice spot to be in these cold blustery days) informs us that he saw Buster Brown in Washington, and that he (Jim) was the only '09er to attend the Dartmouth-Michigan game last fall. Jim says that Buster is in favor of an informal reunion in '52 and that he seconds the motion. Opinions from various classmates will be entertained. Write your editor to Aurora, O.
Inasmuch as Dick Lord has not been forthcoming with any research into the whereabouts of one Psyche Fisk, who has been in the land of the missing these past few years, the assignment has been given to B. MatthewScully, the chief get-arounder in '09. A card from him bearing the post mark of Medford, Mass., says he'll get on the job pronto. Scull, by way of information, has the most descriptive address of any guy in the class. It is Flint Ave., Stoneham, Mass.
Our sympathy to Nut Root, whose mother-in-law passed away on January 23. She had left New York several months ago to make her home with the Roots, but her stay was destined to be short.
Nut said he received a welcome surprise early Christmas morning by a phone call from Dutch West who had flown in from the east and was changing planes in Chicago for his ranch in Arizona, expecting to arrive in time for Christmas dinner. "We had a nice beef," said Nut, "during which we reminisced about our yachting days in Maine waters and there abouts he, the owner and skipper of the yacht Clorinda, while I was the technical adviser and crafty helmsman of the crew of Inge Fearing's sturdy racer, the good ship Rambler."
Dot Chase, widow of Phil, was planning to spend the month of February in Florida, picking up strength and health from the sunshine. She is probably the most loyal of all '09 widows and sure does her share in boosting the Alumni Fund among widows of our departed members. Her son Ham who was graduated at the time of our 40th reunion, will be married next month to a young lady who's a nurse at Hitchcock Hospital. "They both love Hanover," says Dot, "and so do I."
What surprised me when I contacted a bunch of those old birds to get 'em out for the Cleveland dinner was the stock excuse, "the last time I showed up at a Dartmouth affair, there was no one around my time, so I figured what's the use of going out." Hell's fire, there ain't no age limits among Dartmouth guys. We've all got the same things in common. We've all been through the same mill. We've all been touched, or should have been touched, by what is known as the Dartmouth spirit. If we keep it alive, it helps keep us alive, not in the sense of being a damned old fool who kicks up his heels every time he sees a young skirt, but in taking an interest in the things that surround us presently, and in still looking forward with relish to what's in the future. There's no sense in allowing ourselves to be bowed down by the weight of years, or in taking ourselves too damned seriously.
With these closing words I exhort you bimboes to be taking that pen in hand and shooting some stuff in the direction of Aurora.
Class Notes Editor, Pioneer Trail, Aurora, Ohio
Secretary and Treasurer, Sandwich, Mass.
Class Agent, 18 Spirea Dr., Dayton, Ohio
