The Undergraduate Chair
MOST of the snow didn't arrive until the Monday after, but it made little difference. With intermittent storms and freezing temperatures, Dartmouth's 42nd Annual Winter Carnival became a reality with no more strain or confusion than usually accompanies the big weekend. But while the weather man had finally helped out during the two previous Carnivals, there was little encouragement this time. The temperature sank just low enough to allow the completion of most of the statues and the Outdoor Evening set, and again it was a flurry of desperate, last- minute activity.
It is typical of Carnival that no two couples did or saw the same things. All one remembers is rushing to and from a variety of events, arriving late for Outdoor Evening, and collapsing as the dances and parties brought the festival to a close.
Throughout the first day the Queen judges flitted in and out of crowds, events, dormitories and fraternities in search of the "dream supreme" while just as many escorts were crossing their fingers and hoping their dates would not be chosen for the Queen's Court. Woe to the poor man whose girl receives all that publicity and attention.
Chosen from a group of 45 prospects, the new "Queen of the Snows," Diana Weeks, was crowned Friday evening at Outdoor Evening. A 5' 6", 132-pound blonde from York, Pa., Diana had no trouble fitting the "beauty, personality and outdoor charm" requirements. Her date, Richard Fowler '54, was bewildered but managed to say, "After all, except for the Glee Club and press appearances, and Diana's two duties today (presiding at the hockey game with Yale and at the ski jump on Saturday), we're practically free!"
Portraying the legend of a captive queen held in the spell of the evil spirit of the North, the Outdoor Evening program was held amidst perfect weather conditions Friday evening. With an extravagant set of an ice castle nestled between twin mountains, the show featured the skating of Red McCarthy, former Ice Capades star. In a weird costume composed chiefly of one loin cloth and a coat of silver paint, McCarthy awed the crowd with crashing jumps over a row of burning barrels and a leap through a flaming teepee. The lighting effects and broadcasting gave the show that individual Carnival atmosphere which seems to be captured at no other time. The muffled clapping, the stamping feet and snow-covered benches are all memories attached only to the sub-zero darkness at Memorial Field.
The Glee Club Concert and the Players' hilarious melodrama "No Mother to Guide Her" seemed to enter completely into the spirit of this year's festivities. Introducing two arrangements of poems by Robert Frost '96 set to music by Frank Logan '52, the Glee Club presented a lively and varied show. An added attraction was the singing of "The Carnival Song," written especially for the College by Robert Grant Jr. '46, a Navy veteran now at the Cushing Veterans Hospital in Framingham, Mass. The Players' presentation, a stereotyped, gaynineties thriller with tears and nickelodeon music, was one of the funniest shows put on in the Little Theater in years.
But the real trademark of the Winter Carnival was still the snow statues scattered throughout the College. The 25-foot "Wosogoonega" (Bearer of the Sacred Flame), presided over the center of campus, glowing each evening in the reflection of his lighted torch. Several wags repeatedly wanted to know why the Indian god of the North was facing south. Chi Phi's 17-foot parody of the campus Indian walked off with the fraternity honors. Designed by Edward M. Condit Jr. '53, "Chabanogunja Mog" (Here by the Fire) was the same Indian sitting down and warming his hands over his torch, stuck in the ground in front of him. The dormitory award went to Ripley Hall for its design of an Indian skier entangled around a tree. This creation was the work of Roy R. Coffin Jr. '54, Harlan W. Fair '53 and Edward W. Freedman '54.
For a while it appeared that few of the statues would be completed on schedule, what with the warm weather, but all-night stands by many of the fraternities and dormitories, not to exclude all the students working at the center of campus, managed to mold most of the statues into shape with the aid of a 32-degree temperature. But Gamma Delta Chi ran into some extra trouble. With their snow sculpture not yet started, the fraternity members discovered Wednesday afternoon that the hot water main had burst ten feet below their front lawn. With the prospect of no water during Carnival and an invasion of dates within a day confronting them, brothers worked in three-hour shifts Wednesday night and most of Thursday uncovering some eighty feet of pipe and at the same time building most of their statue. Water was turned on at the house Thursday afternoon and arriving dates probably never fully appreciated the work which had been completed before they appeared. As a matter of fact, only the Carnival atmosphere could probably have caused such a dirty, undesirable job to be completed so quickly. Never underestimate the power of the women.
One student, however, had his fill of women. Robert H. Daly '54 was the recipient of seven dates, all from Skidmore and all from the same dormitory. It seems that several of Daly's friends, spearheaded by his roommate, organized as a practical joke a "Why I Want To Come to Winter Carnival with Bob Daly" contest. Unknown to Daly, the conspirators wrote to Smith, Skidmore, Wellesley, Vassar and Green Mountain Junior College saying that Daly was with- out a date for the weekend and would invite the female who wrote "the most interesting and honest exposition of her reasons for wanting to come to Dartmouth for that weekend." Not to cast any aspersions on college women in general, it is nevertheless true that letters began pouring in on the bewildered Daly, who was slightly puzzled to say the least. When seven Skidmore girls answered saying "one for all and all for one," Daly pulled a fast one and invited the group up en masse. Picking one for himself and fixing up the other six with his roomie and assorted friends, Daly ended up on the long end of the practical joke. Other students began wondering if this new technique might not have unexplored possibilities.
On the athletic front, the Big Green suffered setbacks in both hockey and swimming, but the Indian ski team made off with the Carnival Cup for the seventh time in the last ten years. A Saturday morning jam session, combining the talents of Dartmouth, Harvard, Amherst, Tufts and Syracuse, had the rafters packed in Webster Hall; and the Undergraduate Council offered its annual Carnival Ball featuring a six-foot formally attired penguin and the music of the Barbary Coast. In a typical mardi gras atmosphere, the 1952 Winter Carnival offered milling confusion, innumerable parties, laughs and unforgettable memories.
But there were also drawbacks to this year's Carnival. While every college girl looks forward to a. Carnival weekend, it now appears that every other college male in the East also has the same whim. Hanover's winter weekend had grown too big and commercialized. Out-of-town visitors, mostly uninvited, flooded the town, jammed fraternity houses, wreaked havoc all over campus, and generally made life unpleasant for one and all. An accusing finger could not be pointed at any one specific group, but it was obvious that something would have to be done.
This year Hanover "was packed with a record 1600 dates, and police estimated that 25,000 people, mostly bent on viewing the snow statues, had jammed through the town on Sunday alone. Traffic was snarled for hours. A reported $2000 was stolen in valuables, and damages were inflicted at North Faver weather, Delta Tau Delta, Pi Lambda Phi, Beta and DKE. Dean Neidlinger agreed that most of the blame lay with the visitors and hoped that the Interfraternity and Dormitory Councils would be able to find a solution to the problem.
In a Monday editorial following the weekend. The Dartmouth declared:"... the tables at Mory's are now deserted, the Square is evacuated and the Tiger has not been held. All the Harvards and Yales now go to Carnival. Dartmouth Winter Carnival is Big Business ... We wonder at success when one individualist states that he had a good time in spite of Carnival."
Freshman Orientation
Although Carnival completely overshadowed all other activity on campus during the January and February rush, one important milestone was reached by the undergraduate body. After four months of planning, debating and revising, Palaeopitus had its plan for freshman orientation approved by the Undergraduate Council. The new program passed with little opposition after an amendment had been added that called for an honorary sophomore group to aid Green Key in the actual mechanics of the new program. This plan stresses orientation without coercion, and the Vigilantes were abolished.
Another big issue arising as the semester closed was consideration of the Honor System Constitution proposed by the Academic Committee of the UGC. The Faculty voted to approve the constitution with the stipulation that the "reporting clause" should be changed. The Council recommended that the constitution be sent to the Faculty after the suggested revisions had been completed. It will then be brought before the undergraduate body for approval or disapproval on a student referendum. With Carnival a thing of the past, the Honor System is bound to receive the full attention of the student government.
, while (below) Ripley Hall's tree-entwined skier won the dormitory prize.
PRIZE-WINNING SNOW STATUES: (Top) Chi Phi's parody of the torch bearer in the center of campus won fraternity honors at Carnival,
RUNNER-UP: Delta Tau Delta's clown, welcoming Carnival guests, took second fraternity honors.
SKATING STARS PERFORMING ON THE OUTDOOR EVENING RINK ON MEMORIAL FIELD
