1945
Having just attended the annual dinner of the Boston Alumni Association, which was its usual rewarding experience, I find that writing this now-tardy column is a much easier job. Although I must confess the '45 faces at the banquet were much the same as always, it is an invigorating and refreshing gathering. If you find that your Dartmouth spirit is in a run-down condition, I heartily endorse such gatherings as a means of recharging the old battery. To meet Dartmouth men, see Dartmouth friends, and hear Dartmouth men talk about the College is to brush away all doubts and cobwebs as to the lasting value of this association. Most come away with renewed determination to strengthen and nourish the bond which the "Dartmouth experience" has given us.
At the '45 table were such class stalwarts as Mo Frye, the ribald realtor, still single but disclaiming any evasive tendencies, although I noticed he was sporting a gold bachelor button with two oak-leaf clusters and the intestinal medal of honor awarded for an extraordinary display of guts. Johnny Brooks, now running his own delivery service, reported that business "was picking up." Lest you be confused, Johnny's profession is obstetrics. Sumner Dorfman, the jolly jeweler, has been serving on his local interviewing committee for Dartmouth applicants and mentioned that work of this type is one way of assuring that the right type of boy heads Hanoverwards. John Leggat, Lowell's loquacious lawyer, stated simply that everyone should have a will and then added modestly that he had achieved some experience in that field. We all took this with a grain of salt, although it was noticeable that Mo Frye put some celery under his. Hanover was, as usual, represented by Nick Sandoe and Cliff Jordan. After the speeches Nick drifted off to shake a few hands while Cliff and a few of us carried on as best we could. (We carried on so much it's a wonder we weren't carried out.) Irv Graves sat down just before the meal was served and we didn't quite recognize him. Seems that time and good food have left their effect on the long, slim form that used to slide along the Hanover Plain. George Pierce, newly-elected treasurer of the Charles River Dartmouth Club, was there, looking for all the world like a large economy-size Alec Guinness. Incidentally, if any of you are in the market for a cute Welsh terrier come the middle of April, contact George. If planting operations were successful, he should have a bumper crop of puppies on his hands about then. While he wasn't able to attend the banquet, Eliot Mover, Mr. Perpetual Motion, did make an appearance. Ellie, who looks more and more like his Bunny Bear trademark each time I see him, met with Nick and the Alumni Fund staff to plan this season's attack. Those were the '45s present. We should have had more but I say that every year. If you live around Boston, don't miss it again. It's fun.
The old file is just bursting this month (a very pleasant sensation), so here goes.... I am extremely aware that there are many of you out there who have never had the thrill or shock of having your name appear within this momentous column. Lest you think that I write only about my friends, let me assure you that I write what I have and that no news is insignificant enough not to rate as much spread as possible. The reason your name and doings haven't appeared is simple. I haven't heard about you. And don't let false modesty prevent your waiting about yourself, for there are many of your classmates who would greatly enjoy some report on your activities. Think it over and drop me a note. Joe Byron did. He and Betsy had sort of let their Dartmouth connections lapse until December when Joe wrote a short note bringing us up to date on the family. He reports having a five-year-old candidate for the Class of '72 and an 8-year-old daughter who will "probably date the class of '69." Not only did Joe send this bit of news along but he sent treasurer Oldfield the wherewithal to make himself a full-fledged member of the 100% Club. Not bad, eh?
"Bebe" Miller, now in Redding, Calif, where he has taken up the practice of interna medicine, is on the look-out for all '45s who might be passing through on "their Pacific Tour." Don Davis is back in New Jersey after a three-year peregrination which includec Winston-Salem, El Paso, and now Navasink N. J. According to Barbara, the Davis family now numbers five children and a dog. Don is at Fort Hancock, working on Nike. As usual the latch-string is out to '45s. Call Hi 3-2499 I think I got Johnny Halstead safely married a month or so ago, so here's a further development on that erudite gentleman. John is on the home stretch at Harvard, having passed his general exams for a Ph.D. in history and now has his nose firmly to the grindstone in an effort to finish up his thesis. Although little has been heard from Al Lott, lots has happened to him. In fact, two little lots has happened to him, both girls. Al Jean, the two girls, plus a boxer, live in Valley Stream, on the Island, where Al works as asst. comptroller for Permatex Corp. Besides seeing jovial Joe Brennan '46, Al reports "have little hair on head, am enjoying life, do not go back to Hanover enough." That description fits about 85% of us, Al.
John McCauley says, "Still a pedlar for DuPont, love the South, see Warren Agrys constantly - Dartmouth fever usual high, although football club has trouble." Barby, Roger Brown's faithful spouse, sends a catchy note: "Roger is in the hospital having windows made in his head (sounds like a paneful operation). It isn't hollow! The operation seems to have been a success and he can throw away the ear trumpet and look five years younger at the 'frivolous fifteenth'."
Before I forget, Cliff Jordan's latest income tax deduction missed the deadline, as Brian Meade was born just over the line in January. That makes it three boys and that's a handful .
See you and April showers next month. Things will be "Movering" by then so be prepared.
Secretary, Middlesex School, Concord, Mass.
Treasurer, R.D. 1, Stoney Ridge Rd., Avon, Ohio
