1921
For Whom Is the Festive Fortieth Framed? For You.
In our frontier days when pioneers sawed wood and chopped it with an axe, one could shudder about a tough situation and speak of being drawn through a knot hole. When a man proved fat and the hole as skinny as a needle's eye, the sensation was coarse compared with the exquisite pain facing Don Smith, specialist on gage sales at Greenfield Tap and Die. Problems enough he had in past years with customers wanting accuracy up to 0.0001 (ten thousandths) of an inch. What Don then thought hot needle stabs in his brain now turn out to be as refreshing as the cold needles of a shower on a lusty chest. Ah, the old, good days! Read this and shudder;
Tolerances to Shrink
The Air Force believes that manufacturing tolerances will virtually disappear with a probable requirement of tolerances of plus or minus 0.000006 (six millionths). This will certainly require equipment and methods far beyond the capabilities of any equipment in use today. However, the requirements of new weapons with their smaller tolerances and higher reliability characteristics make it imperative to take advantage of any newer techniques.
Can you guess why Don get? up for his first cup of coffee at 6 a.m.? Can you guess why even on vacations in Maine he cannot sleep? Can you guess why after a TV supper, he sacks in at 9? Don has a word for it: "Terrific. The pressure at the office is TERRIFIC."
If you want to see Paul Belknap, do not climb to the 22nd floor of the RKO Building; he has moved. If you are absent-minded, however, you will discover that the climb is worth while, for Doug Storer is still there. Now Paul is on the 'nth floor of the Eastern Airlines Building at 10 Rockefeller Plaza. As President of Hunting Geophysical Services, Inc., Paul will be glad to put at your service his fleets of airplanes, ice breakers, underwater ships and divers, outer-space rockets, and mountain climbing geologists, depending on whether you are interested in telephone lines, ocean currents, robber treasure, interstellar radiation, or minerals and oil. Why not give him a really tough problem, like advice for setting up a skin-diving school in the Saragossa Sea?
Asian countries, indeed the entire Orient, are taboo for Frank and Barbara Livermore. How great the disappointment is may be guessed when you realize that painstakingly over months of map-poring they had meticulously planned this four-and-a-half-month de-luxe journey by air to places too remote and exotic for ordinary travelers. Barbara has fallen ill with diverticulitis, a disease well known to Roger Wilde, who, Barbara will be glad to know, is now completely cured and capable of flying off at the drop of a wintertied fly to fishing streams too exotic and remote for ordinary fishermen. If disappointed, Frank and Barbara were not bent over with a ninety-degree angle of chagrin when the doctors said, "No, Madam. No, Sir. No Orient for you." Drawing herself erect, Barbara said, "So be it." She and Frank settled for California and Arizona this winter and Europe in the spring. They did have twelve splendid days at the "fabulous" Hotel HanaMaui on the Island of Maui and more time at the Royal Hawaiian in Honolulu before embarking on the S.S. Lurline for Los Angeles. Frank was disappointed not to see Pike Emory '20, Pud Walker, and Ted Merriam, and the Honoluluians were doubly disappointed. Reason: no glimpse of Barbara.
Hal and Doris Braman have been thrilled to hear how well their handsome son-in-law, Betsy's husband, LCDR Alexander Grosvener, a jet pilot, now attached as aide to Admiral MacDonald of the carrier Saratoga, has been doing in the Mediterranean. He had fascinating experiences in Athens where he became acquainted with the Royal Family, who invited him to go on sailing parties. Betsy loved the Mediterranean and Navy life and would like to linger in Europe indefinitely.
Though two years away from retirement, Harry Garland and his new wife Mary have not only looked about for a place to relax in; they have found it. They have not only located a suitable house; they have bought it. They look forward not only to settling in it; they spend every vacation there and even weekends when Harry can get away from his work as Assistant Vice-President of National Bank of Plymouth County, Brockton. They not only like the location; they love it. Where? New Hampshire, of course. Hanover or Norwich? Neither. The region; Monadnock. The town: South Lyndeboro. Harry's son Burton, still single and living with his father and stepmother, works at the First National Bank, Boston. Harry's daughter, Joyce, married a little over a year ago a man now doing his military duty in Italy.
Three short cheers for Hugh McKay. Change signals. Make it three long. He is remarrying this month in Florida. Indeed, by the time you read this he may have already have made his fiancee his wife. She is Mrs. Frederick J. Longley of Deerfield Beach, who, along with her husband, had been one of Hugh's and Marion's closest friends over a period of thirty years. Mr. Longley died about four years ago, and Marion, after a courageous fight against cancer for eight years, died Dec. 19, 1959, aged sixty. Mrs. Longley, a grey-haired grandmother of three, is glad to leave her Florida home and Hugh's in New York to attend the Fortieth Reunion where she will be cordially welcomed by his many friends.
On the verge of retirement from the wool brokerage business, Tony Gates and Martha will be flying to Denmark just after Jonathan graduates from Amherst in June. During the last football season Jonathan found his name in the newspaper, for as a place-kick specialist he scored twice against Wesleyan, once from 43 yards out. Tony's daughter Martha Ann left Radcliffe at the end of her sophomore year, took a secretarial course at Hickox, and now works in a Boston municipal bond business. Joel followed his sister's good example, left Colorado A. and M., served a two-year stretch in the Army in Germany, returned to Sheridan, Wyo., married, and fathered a daughter. He and his New York wife enjoy the small cattle ranch which they call theirs. Tony is for the moment dogless. He had to put to sleep his last two ancient English Springer Spaniel bitches, and his attachment to a sadfaced basset hound was short-lived as that bitch, still a puppy, was run over and killed by a car.
Arlene and Cape Payson love Florida so much that they now use as their official address Crescent City, "a very quiet small town," but they are making no boasts about a summery winter. The word for the early winter was "messy," though the weather was not cold enough to hurt fruit and flowers except banana bushes which get into trouble every winter. Cape's health has been none too good. He went fishing last fall and caught bronchitis. Later, camping out overnight in the Ocala National Forest on a deer-hunting trip, he caught a cold, which meanly developed into pneumonia. The local doctor permitted him to pop up too soon, and the result is that Cape has been in and out of bed despite Arlene's strenuous effort to keep him popped in.
Here are two more reports on health, one good, the other not so good. Joe Folger, who for years has been fighting terrible headaches which made his reading and teaching grim business, is cured because of aniseikonic lenses in new glasses. But Bill Alley spent considerable time in the hospital in February where doctors gave him all sorts of tests to determine the causes of massive hemorrhages. With 1921 the sort of class it is, Bill is determined to carry on as Class Agent.
The Festive Fortieth Is Framed For You.
Secretary, 33 East Wheelock St. Hanover, N. H.
Class Agent,2 Wall St., New York 5, N. Y.
