1947's "Undampened" Reunion
PHI BETE KEYS were crunching efficiently through cans of Schlitz, giving '47's fateful fourth reunion a beneficent benediction Friday, June 22, in the lee of Hitchcock Hall. Cadillacs tacked and luffed alongside one another on Tuck Drive and from them the hardy and ancient sons of this class disembarked to displace with their ever-increasing density, the thirsty opportunists of '45 and '46 who had sought out the '47 tent bar when their own transfusing apparatus developed sclerosis or bubble-clogged fuel lines. TozonesHarris, that remarkably foresighted and provident Reunion Chairman, surveyed one and all with the detached calm and satisfaction of a Ziegfield who has seen the first-nighters applaud a new hit.
Quantities of grey-opaque, in fact, down right wet air muzzled the famed Hanover sunset and to some degree impeded that quick and furtive glance to the lapel which would occasionally be necessary to place "goo' ole Wally Toggleswitch" who used to loose the empties down three flights of stairs at Wheeler with a lusty "Bombs away." None the less, animated groups pulped mitts under the canopy; enthused sons of '47 identified themselves as selling in New York or constructing in Minesville, Virginia, or making book in Philly. The cosmopolitan geography of the class was immediately apparent from snatches of greeting and it was with pride one noted the feckless courageousness of those like EdMiller who had ventured as far West of West Newton as Laguna, California.
Thirsts acquired while driving were meanwhile quenched as if their owners had sweated out twenty-mule team Borax trips across the arid desert. Dave Stahl, newly arrived but nonetheless seeing his duty, ensconced himself at the Steinway and, assisted by the gifted choristers Len Sommer and Bill Wallace '46, soon wafted out delicate Bach chorales and the like upon the humid breeze. Perhaps a consensus of the reunioners left these convivial surroundings to shake President Dickey's hand in the gracious surroundings of his Baker Hall reception but, more likely, a majority dared not part with the amber sustenance so bountifully supplied.
The Alumni Dance however turned out a few more—couples whose wives no doubt were damned to see why they'd had to trot formals all the way to Hanover to wear under a tent. The College Hall cotillion in every way merited its packed attendance with the music of Bob Childs providing suitable melieu for the intricate gavottes performed by JackYoung and wife, Jess and Audrey Chadwell and Dr. Line Cain. There were others but the lights were low, the music hot, the atmosphere heady and the pace fast, so that familiar faces lost themselves in the blurr. The Tent revisited had an air of perpetuum mobile with the same arms hoisting 'em, the same voices, not over careful with the musical tenets of pitch, tone and timbre continuing with pace evidently sufficient to last the night. Some say that this caterwauling, conducted reputedly by Ed Brophy, Kirt McCaleb, Dick Johnson and Neil Beard, our pallid classmate from North Carolina, finally died of strange inertia at 5 a.m.
Quantities of canned orange juice and that remedy which promises a "Better Tomorrow" gradually awakened the vital spirits of the class to face a campus which would have been admirable setting for Maugham's Rain. Drops as big as Webster's head drenched those who trickled to Silsby for the Class Meeting. Secretary-Chairman Chadwell filled the chair with staid and proper dignity and with threats to turn obstructionists, left wingers, social democrats and Hanover dogs out into the rain, railroaded through an excellent Class Constitution and elected an Executive Committee. Len Sommer's and Phil Segal's contention that the Constitution was printed upside down did not come to a motion and the erroneous belief of Pete Larson, John Kaufman, Bob Keane and Carolina Beard that Yakov Malik was elected to the Executive Committee is not countenanced in fact. The next scheduled event, the famed Class Picture, was postponed until Sunday, underwater film being unobtainable.
Whereupon, the male Dartmouth collected his bib and beer can and hustled off to the gym for the General Association of Alumni luncheon and meeting. Wives, fiancees and dates were chauffeured to the Norwich Inn where, thanks to the Reunion Committee of Townes Harris, Bob Owens, Joe Lovell and Hugh Chapin, they dealt with an excellent chicken salad. According to several mates of '45 and '46, ours were the only lovelies who weren't left to their own devices to walk the duckboards or stare with mental anguish at the Orozco murals. At the meeting of the General Association one had particular reason to be happy with Sid Hayward's report that this year's $500,000 Alumni Fund quota might well be reached and with the excellent and thought-provoking addresses of Governor Sherman Adams '20 of New Hampshire and President Dickey. One takes heart that TheDartmouth, its editorial page what it is (and what is it? Every one we asked was uncertain whether it was free beer, extra-liberal stands or anti-MacArthurism that had raised the Alumni eyebrow) will continue unmuzzled and uncensored.
During Saturday afternoon, the to-that-time completely obscured sun poked through, doubtless to see what Tom Harrington,Buck Buckingham and Ham Chase were mixing with the now plentiful Narragansett. TomLeggat and Iggy Lohse, among the multitude under the tent, protected sensitive reddened eyeballs in the shade of many hundred empties. A few dangerously low on Vitamin D or with completely paralyzed vocal cords after one too many Sweet Adelines, hit the Hanover links. 'Twas there that Governor Adams almost suffered a premature end from Betsy Tower's shanked ball off the first tee in full view of the author and John Bill. Unfortunately the weather did not cooperate enough to permit a wel'-planned Storrs Pond outing.
At 6:30 p.m. the Dartmouth Dining Association, as if to appease the memories of student years, served up a banquet of lobster newburg, French fries, cold cuts, salad and more, quite without previous parallel. The food was in every way comparable to the other events, so excellent in themselves that they brought forth to Hanover the Bob MacKinnons married but 24 hours, and the Bob Backs, the Irving Levities and Dr. Ted Clark and wife Ricki, all married a week or less. Joe Flound-ers with proper wit and brevity introduced Dean Stearns Morse who commented upon the Dartmouth frosh of today in learned and humorous fashion. Joe Flounders next introduced George Ferrarese, famed Squawker editor, who with faultless diction read off an impromptu speech inscribed on his cuffs, which revealed the '47 standing in this Green Derby to the last mill and explained how, with such a relatively small percentage of our some 680 class members contributing to the Alumni Fund, we achieved a percentage base or contribution index of but 40. As some sort of devious hint, Flounders proferred to Ferrarese an unsigned check for $500 made out to absent Ed Scully.
To wear away Saturday evening, a few turned out to the Nugget to see the Dartmouth Player's excellent treatment of TheRoyal Family, a well-performed drawing room comedy by Edna Ferber and George Kaufman. By the second act the heat had reached 90 and the humidity such that it was raining in the balcony. Not a few horses turned their noses toward the class stable to wet their tongues, though none at that point could be led to water.
At this point under the class tarpaulin there commenced a memorable atonal experience stimulated by the inspired piano playing of Jack Ingersol '11 whom some fortuitous sea breeze had blown onto the '47 piano stool. When exhaustion claimed him, Dick Rearick banged the ivories while RoyDavis persevered somewhere between the baritone and bass parts. Again early dawn saw the dissolution of that party and later, Sunday morning, quiet, sober, yet somehow with their expectations more than fulfilled, the class clambered upon the campus bleachers to preserve forever in photograph the sight of its first reunion lost-weekend face. As the long cool shadows began to steal across the campus Sunday afternoon not a vestige of the good time remained except for Bob Mortimer who somehow had slipped between the bleacher seats and had long since peacefully given up attempts to extricate himself.
As you read the following very approximate list of those present, bear in mind Jess Chadwell's banquet admonition, "All of you have one or two good friends whom you didn't find at this reunion. Let's bring them back at the next!"
Robert Bach and wife Jean, Neil Beard and fiancee Norma White, D. Lindsey Beauchamp, John Bill, Phil Booth, Ed Brophy, William Buckingham, Ed Byrkit and wife, Dr. Line Cain, Paul Carlson, Jess Chadwell and wife Audrey, Hugh Chapin and Mary Osborn, Ham Chase, Dr. Ted Clark and wife Ricki, Leßoy Davis, Don Delahanty, Mike deSimone, Howard Doolittle, George Ferrarese, Norm Fink, Joseph Flounders and fiancee, Jerome L. Gillis, Harry Graves, Al Gray, Bob Hall, Tom Harrington, Townes Harris and wife Rosalind, Paul Henegan and Gloria Burke, Clint Holton, Dick Johnson and wife Vera, Joe Jordan, John Joyce, Ary Kaufman, John Kaufman, Robert Keane and wife Barbara, John Kinnaird, Dick Lash and wife Lois, Harry Lanzillo and Gloria Foy, Dick Leary, Pete Larson, Tom Leggat, Austin Lohse, Irving Levine and wife Carolyn, Dick Lezius, William J. Lynn, Frank Healy, Kirt McCaleb, Bob MacKinnon and wife, Joe Mangelinckx, Ed Miller and wife, Bob Morison and wife Muriel, Bob Mortimer.
Bob Mulligan, Blanchard Pratt, Dick Rearick and wife, George Rusch, Bob Russ, Ed Samson, Phil Segal, Hal Simon, Don Page and wife Stefanie, Norm Small, Len Sommer and wife, Dave Stahl and fiancee, Harley Timbers, Dr. John Tower and wife Betsy, Arny Weber and friend, Frank Weber and wife, John Widholm, Herbert Wik and friend, Jack Young and wife Mary Lee.
THE MEN OF 1947 AND THEIR LADIES ALREADY ARE LOOKING FORWARD TO "NEXT TIME"
