The 1956 Commencement

COMMENCEMENT this year was almost a "washout." Almost, but not quite — and the difference spelled success. The bugaboo, as you might suppose, was the vagariousness of New England weather, for the exercises in front of Baker Library which started in a gentle drizzle ended in a pelting downpour. Wettest of all were the 596 seniors, who did not wear raincoats over their academic robes.

At some time in almost every venture, no matter how well planned it may be, the man in charge must take a "calculated risk," must weigh what is to be gained against what can be lost and then must choose a course of action.

For this year's Commencement, President Dickey and Sidney C. Hayward, chairman of the Commencement Committee, faced the toughest possible decision, whether to proceed outdoors, gamble on the weather and permit some 6000 persons to attend the exercises - or to play it safe, hold the exercises in the gym and seat only some 1400 parents, friends and guests.

The program was shortened, the procession was eliminated, and the audience was advised that if it got too tough for them they could repair to nearby Webster Hall and Rollins Chapel where loudspeakers were set up - but the exercises went ahead despite the elements.

They went ahead in all the traditional details, from the singing of Milton's paraphrase of Psalm 136 - "The audience is requested to rise and join in the singing" - through President Dickey's farewell to the seniors - "And now, men of Dartmouth, the word is 'so long' for in the Dartmouth fellowship there is no parting" —to the final Benediction, his 31st at Commencement, by the Rev. Roy B. Chamberlin.

But there were some changes. Dr. Chamberlin went to the gym, thinking in view of the weather that the exercises would be held indoors, and the Rev. Henry P. Van Dusen, president of Union Theological Seminary, gave the opening invocation when Dr. Chamberlin did not appear in time. He came on the platform moments later, breathless after hurrying from the gym. But this was a minor catastrophe, and Dr. Chamberlin was on hand to give his final Commencement benediction before his retirement.

Dr. Detlev W. Bronk, president of the Rockefeller Institute, cut his Commencement Address short to a few well-thoughtout lines. In essence he said, "It is better to travel hopefully than to arrive at all." This seemed like excellent advice to 596 young men who had arrived at the end of a four-year journey and were immediately setting out again under such an inauspicious send-off. If ever concrete demonstration of the truth of this homily were needed, circumstances provided by the weather were ample.

But the seniors got their diplomas, some of them a bit rain splattered, in the same ritual of circling files of swirling black robes mounting the steps of the rostrum. And as usual Dean McDonald's supply of degrees ran out exactly with the last man. Despite all that the elements could dish out, each man got his very own diploma with a smile and a nod from the Dean or the President.

While it was true that many a summer frock was rain spotted, and hundreds of rented caps and gowns were so soaked that each one had to be spread out to dry the next day on the stadium bleachers, it also is true that at next day's post-mortem staff meeting, President Dickey said, "If I had to make the decision again, I would still proceed with the outdoor exercises." This statement was made on a lovely Monday in June, with a warm sun glancing from leaves rustled by soft breezes, and over all a blue, blue sky partly filled with cotton tuft clouds.

As the hour for the Commencement approached, the seniors had gathered in Rollins Chapel for a final count and assurance that all who were to receive degrees actually were there. The faculty had gathered with all their academic regalia in Sanborn House. The President and the honorary degree recipients met in his office in Parkhurst Hall.

And then, at 9:47 a.m., a gentle drizzle began to fall from a misty, cloud-filled sky. On such occasions almost continuous contact is maintained with the local Civil Aeronautics Authority weather station in West Lebanon. The weather station re- ported at this time the possibility of a light drizzle but nothing to indicate an inundation. In fact, the outlook was for clearing weather within the next two hours.

On this evidence, President Dickey at the last possible moment - at 10:07 a.m. as he and his group filed from the front door of Parkhurst — held a quick consultation with Secretary Hayward, and the die was cast.

It is true that Commencement this year was wet, but all the same it had a unique degree of solemnity. Surrounded by umbrellas, raincoats, programs held atop heads, newspapers spread on seats and over shoulders - amid these efforts to avert the elements, the 596 students to become alumni carried through their roles as usual. The water might drip from the tassels on their mortarboards and the folds of their gowns might cling more soddenly to their trousers, but they were going through a ritual for which they had labored four long years.

But from this experience, a major change in the pre-Commencement planning has been developed. Hereafter, instead of having the seniors gather in Rollins Chapel, the faculty and 50-year Class in the vicinity of Sanborn House, and the Presidential Party in Parkhurst, all these groups will meet in the gym if there is any chance of rain. This means that instead of being widely separated and "less mobile," these groups will be under one roof and can quickly be deployed either to the front of Baker Library or to the gym floor.

While this procedure will not make the actual indoor-outdoor decision any less painful for the President and the commencement Committee, it will permit greater flexibility up to the last minute. The objective still is to hold the Commencement and Baccalaureate exercises outdoors if at all possible, so that seniors may have the full five guests and not the two to which they would be limited in the gym. But now the President will have his "troops" directly at hand and can dispose them on a moment's notice. And so the battle against the climate of New England goes.

"We've been holding Commencement exercises at Dartmouth for 185 years," Mr. Hay ward remarked the. day following, "and I see no reason why we should let a little typical New England weather upset us unduly. It is a question of taking things in stride and keeping to the foremost our main objective - that the students and parents will have a Commencement they'll remember." At this point the Hayward humor expressed itself when he added with the bare suggestion of a smile, "I think they'll remember the one this year."

THE weekend started auspiciously with Class Day another of a succession of "perfect June days" that had been trying to make up for a relative lack of spring in these parts. Class Day exercises went off as usual in the Bema and at the Old Pine, and the representatives of 1956 showed to their classmates, families and best girls the erudition and wit of this year's graduates.

James P. Breeden '56, who gave the Senior Class Oration, summed up four years at Dartmouth in the following thought-provoking sentence: "We understand why things are as they are: In other words we are fairly adept at giving reasons as a substitute for doing right." And later on he gave the following advice to his classmates:

"When we become alumni we will enter a body of men noted for their strength of loyalty to Dartmouth. As members of this body let us not respond by sentimental attempts to 'keep the old school as she was when ....' Let us rather do what we can to make her what she must become: a place where learning is being done. All the gimmicks in the world cannot substitute for sound and eager teachers facing equally eager students."

The Sachem Oration, properly humorous and filled with local allusions lost upon most of the parents and guests, was given by Richard W. Hlavac '56. He arrived in full Indian regalia upon the same old Vermont mule, who every spring makes a trek to Hanover, listens to a lot of speeches in company with a black-robed multitude, and then in the evening plods back to Norwich from whence he came.

Erlend E. Jacobsen '56 read the Class Poem, actually a group of four poems, the first of which, "Class Day 1956," said a great deal in few words. In this respect it was a distinct improvement over some po- etic efforts in past years.

Robert K. Faulkner '56 gave the Address to the College, and Robert M. Grossman '56 offered the Address to the Old Pine. Both dwelt upon the past, looked to the future, and considered the present.

President and Mrs. Dickey held their annual reception Friday evening, and as the 1367th and last person walked down the receiving line and shook hands with the President and his wife, Dean and Mrs. McDonald, Dean and Mrs. Morse, and Professor and Mrs. John Hurd, there was a clap of thunder, a raw wind began to blow, and rain descended in sheets. The timing couldn't have been closer. The Band and Glee Club concerts and Commencement Dance rounded out the day.

Admiral Jerauld Wright, Supreme NATO commander in the Atlantic, gave the Commissioning Address for ROTC seniors on Saturday morning. It was a cold, raw day with occasional showers, and Admiral Wright spoke to 63 Navy, 30 Air Force and 18 Army men about to become officers in their respective services at exercises held indoors in Rollins Chapel.

The Commencement Luncheon also was pushed inside at the gym, although a few hardy souls migrated out to the grass in the rear of the building. The newly made front lawn was fenced off after its recent replanting this spring.

In the post-luncheon speaking program President Dickey discussed the Dartmouth spirit; Mr. Hayward reported on the state of affairs with respect to the alumni; Chester A. Zinn Jr. '56, chairman of the senior class, spoke appropriately about joining the Dartmouth fellowship; and Thurlow M. Gordon '06 spoke with gracious urbanity in behalf not only of his 50-year class but of all the College's alumni.

"Dartmouth is not a college; Dartmouth is a religion," Mr. Gordon said. "We feel a sense of triumph in the greatness that is Dartmouth." He reviewed the past fifty years, "the greatest years of human progress ever known," and listed the automobile, radio, TV, magic bullets of medicine and atomic power as developments he and his classmates experienced. "We were in the procession, and we have shared in the glory," Mr. Gordon said, and predicted for the class of 1956 an even greater period of progress in the half century ahead.

The events of the day hurried along with the Class of '79 Trumpeters from the tower of Baker, class reunion banquets, Dartmouth movies, another concert by the Band, and a production of "The Rainmaker" by the Dartmouth Players.

And then Commencement was upon the seniors, and as soon over amid the deluge. The final packing was done, a last look taken at the old dorm room, at Baker, at the river and the mist-covered hills.

In the afternoon the weather began to clear. Monday was a beautiful day.

Jupiter Pluvius, not a degree recipient, dominated the 1956 Commencement.

Admiral Jerauld Wright, USN, Commander of the U. S. Atlantic Fleet and NATO Commander in the Atlantic, who spoke at the ROTC commissioning exercises June 9, chats with 2nd Lt. Wesley H. Smith '56, one of the 111 seniors commissioned as reserve officers.