Article

The Undergraduate Chair

February 1952 Conrad S. Carstens '52
Article
The Undergraduate Chair
February 1952 Conrad S. Carstens '52

lULL before the storm. This is Hanover from the end of Christmas vacation until the first week in February when final exams and Winter Carnival give students a deadly one-two punch.

There was little excitement during the winter stretch this year. With slow starts by the basketball and hockey teams, college life consisted primarily of recovering from the rude shock of last-minute exams and term papers. College issues drifted into the background as the big weekend became the converging point for most students and activities. Little was heard about the proposals for a revised cut system, a change in the freshman orientation program, and a possible honor system. The Undergraduate Council held its monthly meeting, but it was obvious that its efforts would not receive the full attention of the students until Carnival was a thing of the past.

There has been a decided change in the atmosphere at College as compared with last year's attitude of indecision and instability. Men spent the 1950 holidays with a carefree and aimless spirit as the war and inevitable military service loomed ahead of them. The Chinese Communists had just started an all-out offensive, and the general picture was gloomy. Christmas 1951 was a completely different story as the war and military service seemed more distant. Graduate school programs were still plausible, and, although most realized that some sort of military duty was inevitable, most students were taking it in stride. It was now classified as just one of those necessary hardships which arrive in the process of growing older.

Probably the most difficult problem students had to face as the holidays began was that of leaving town. Classes were scheduled to end Tuesday, December 18, at 4 p.m., but Monday evening a western blizzard raced East ahead of all weather forecasts and threatened the Hanover area. The Administration wisely cancelled all classes (an act greatly appreciated), but for many the extra time was not enough. The snow began falling around 10:30 Tuesday morning, and within an hour it was piling up on the roads. At times it was impossible to see one hundred yards ahead. Driving to New York was almost as difficult as travelling to the West. In Massachusetts the snow turned to sleet which froze as soon as it hit the windshields. Traffic converging on Hartford's Charter Oak Bridge from Boston and central Massachusetts was held up for a full hour while sanders precariously inched their way along the span. The driving snow also clogged clutch and accelerator gears in many cars. It was risky business all the way. The reprieve of a few hours meant the difference for many New York-bound cars, but there were numerous tales of minor accidents and 18-hour trips when the students returned to classes.

But after the ordeal was over, college men could contemplate the snow with satisfaction. Hanover at last had a fair amount of "white stuff." And it was still there in January with the help of a few additional storms. For the first time in three years it appeared that Dartmouth might have no weather troubles for its annual Winter Carnival. Last year there was a steady downpour of rain until the Wednesday night preceding the big weekend when the snow finally arrived, and for the Carnival executives this was too close for comfort. The slalom at Oak Hill had been cancelled both in '49 and '50 because of tardy snowfalls.

Preparations for Carnival are already well under way. The traditional Carnival Night, held "to stimulate some real interest on the part of the undergraduates," presented two short films describing past weekends. Robert D. Brace '52, Carnival chairman, encouraged greater activity among the dormitories in the annual snow statue competition which has become a well-known trademark of Dartmouth Carnivals. In recent years the competition has not been top-notch, although the lack of early snow has often disheartened potential sculptors. i

Two of Carnival's most important contests have already been staged and a winning poster and center-of-campus snow statue selected. The poster, designed by Pete Donahos '53, portrays a skier silhouetted against a rainbow of colors. In the snow statue contest, George Jenkins '52 had his model of an Indian holding a torch on high chosen as the prize-winner. A 25foot creation, the statue began its ascent shortly after the holidays were over.

One of the biggest problems over Carnival is the housing of dates, parents, friends and "those Yalies" who always manage to show up. Even fraternity men have their difficulties as they must evacuate their rooms in favor of the fair sex. Couches, daybeds, mattresses and even soft rugs are being reserved in advance of the invasion, but there never seems to be enough blankets and space for everyone. Rooms in the Hanover Inn and surrounding hotels have been taken for months, and the inexperienced and bewildered freshmen are just beginning to realize that there might be a bit of congestion.

The crucial moment for many students arrives when the dormitory is picked to house the dates of non-fraternity men and freshmen. This means a mass exodus for a hapless crew of about eighty students who expected to enjoy Carnival in the luxury of their own rooms. And there is always the possibility that some souvenirhunting young thing will walk off with a prized possession as a reminder of that "big, wonderful weekend."

The dormitory selection has yet to be announced at this writing, and many fingers are crossed. Mrs. Margaret Broderick, hostess at Dartmouth House, is busy finding rooms for "all her boys" and invariably shakes her head, sadly saying she will never do it again. But somehow she always manages to dig up a room for that late straggler who has just discovered the girl of his dreams.

Other Carnival preparations are also in high gear. Construction has started on the Outdoor Evening set, designed by Rog Shannon '51 and described as"one of the most elaborate in years." The set calls for the construction of twin mountains, a citadel between, and a tunnel beneath the ice for skaters. The Players are strenuously rehearsing for their Carnival presentation of the melodrama, No Mother to GuideHer, and the Glee Club is polishing up another program of vocalizing. Hockey, swimming, basketball, ski meet, parties and dances are all on tap as Dartmouth braces itself for Winter Canival 1952.