1945
It is perhaps fortunate that my vernal peregrinations this year took me westward. For I was able to contact and consult several of our hardworking classmates. Although Gertie and I spent our fust night of this westward trek in a not-too attractive motor court somewhere west of Albany, it was most certainly not an evening of affluent hospitality. Our next stop more than made up for the morose mien of the motor court. We spent the day racing madly across New York state trying to beat the sun to Ohio. We 105t... but not by much! Twilight caught us in Cleveland; however, we were almost to our destination. Now just west of Cleveland there is a town. It is not a big town as towns go, but it is a going town. This going town is Avon, 0., and it was to Avon that we were going. And in this little town of Avon lives a man of many facets, Robert D. Oldfield Jr., "Barney" to his collegiate colleagues, compatriots and classmates. Barney is a hardworking engineer during business hours, an industrious farmer during his periods of relaxation, and at all times the proud and doting father of a now four-months-old daughter, Becky. And so, to Barney's we headed. But darkness was settling and we had no idea where in Avon to find the Oldfield homestead. Find it we finally did though, and a merry welcome awaited us as we pulled into the driveway. Not only were host Barney and wife Molly waiting on their doorstep, but inside were Art Pounds and Jean and Sally Pierce, George Pierce's sister, all slowly sipping savory, satiating solutions of subtle consistency. Needless to say, we all had loads of fun reminiscing and the evening passed all too rapidly. Next day we took our leave of our gracious host and hostess, threaded our way back to the main route, and headed onward to our destination, Grosse Pointe, Mich., where we washed Oldfield's farm off our shoes.
About five days later I attended a Grosse Pointe wedding and there met, for the first time since leaving College, Bill Port man, whose wife Joanie was one of the bridesmaids. Bill and I chatted at length, during which he disclosed that he was sort of on a business trip for the company he works for in Cincinnati. From Grosse Pointe, Bill said, he was heading westward but was planning to spend a night with Al Russell in Tecumseh, Mich. Incidentally, in the course of my conversation with Bill, I happened to mention our last reunion and all the fun we had. Right then and there, Bill swore a solemn oath that he wouldn't miss 1955 and our big 10th. As a rule, I don't care for swearing, but that kind of oath I really appreciate!
If anyone lives near Sweetwater, Tenn., or in the vicinity of Knoxville, please give DaveKendall a call. He's to be found at Box 84, Sweetwater, where he "geologizes" for the N. J. Zinc Co. Dave's in charge of the exploration field office there with a seven-man crew. As far as his '45 activities go, there doesn't seem to be much. In fact, Dave uses very terse language in describing his correspondence. Somebody please write him.
Wah-hoo-waaaaaas to Mr. and Mrs. RichardH. Southwick for the birth of number two, first daughter, on February 28 last. The young lady is Lydia Ann and she was born at the Beverly Hospital in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.
And lastly, just a short reminder that this is the crucial month in the Fund Drive. If you have already contributed, many, many thanks. But if you just haven't gotten around to it, please stop and think a bit. Our quota is based on expectation and is increased slowly every year. We have some big contributors, but the majority of us can't afford too much. If we procrastinate too long, we finally reach the stage where we say, "I'll contribute next year." The class needs your contribution, no matter how small it may be, to fulfill its obligation to Dartmouth, and Dartmouth needs it to fulfill its obligation to mankind. It's really quite important!
Secretary, Middlesex School, Concord, Mass. Class Agent, 51 High St., Leominster, Mass.
