1921
Secretary, 33 East Wheelock St. Hanover, N.H.
Class Agent, 2 Wall St., New York 5, N.Y.
Doug Storer is the sort of man who one week can snuff sulphur in Hell and the next week in Paradise place a delicate nostril above the amaranth, that lovely flower which never fades or dies. Nonplused, you cry, "Amazing!" and Doug replies, "But true." Explanation: these places are in Norway where Doug is to be a guest of the Norwegian government this Spring. An up-and-downer, Doug last summer after travelling the Inland Waterway broadcast from the top of Mt. Washington and the bottom of the granite quarry in Barre, Vt. This Fall he flew to Obendorf, Austria, to record the "Silent Night, Holy Night" story and then jetted to Florida where he found Charlie Smith, aged 119, the oldest working man in the world. Compared to another Doug Storer discovery, Charlie Smith is young. Doug startled the world by producing a Colombian Indian named Javier Periera, who, born in the year George Washington became President of the United States, was 167 years old. Doug's cable code is memorable: Amazingtru. It sounds fine when you shift the G of the third syllable and add it to the fourth. GRTRU is a prehistoric forerunner in interior Australia of the kangaroo. The GRTRU had the grandest gullet ever known on a marsupial. When angry it grunted GRRR, like a cross between a Russian and French boar searching for a dinner of wild ants and truffles.
Could this be one for Doug Storer? It concerns that amazing numismatist Harold Bowen, who, unlike Charlie Smith, retired at the age of 27 from his position as electrical engineer at Detroit Edison to devote himself to historical and aboriginal research, coins, stamps, and Michigan State bank notes about which he wrote a book, privately printed. Hal has a favorite ancestor, a pirate, captain of a ship called "The Speaker," with a polyglot and motley crew who in the 1700's with swagger and flair committed piracy upon ships of all nations. Here is where Doug's Amazing but True might come in. HAROLD'S PIRATE ANCESTOR USED TO SHAVE ONCE A WEEK WITH A LIGHTED CANDLE AND A WET RAG. Though Hal has not lately written any books, he has produced a few papers for the Prismatic Club. He describes the members as oblate spheroids who have learned to sleep with their eyes open.
No oblate spheroid, Hal Braman, noticeably thin, has learned how to retire and keep his eyes at work. He moved into his new house on the New Boston Road, Norwich, Vt., March 30. Before and after, he interviewed the best 150 men of 700 applicants and hired 50 for the Randolph, Vt., Division of The Waterbury Company, a plastic and button manufacturing concern.
For foreigners, eyes uplifted to skyscrapers, New York is a neck-straining experience unless it is a spine-tingling thrill as they from the hundredth floor look down on it. For Ralph Steiner who has a level gaze, it has turned out to be a spine-spastic affair. Rolling up his sleeves and flexing his muscles, Ralph, never a Dartmouth hammer thrower or an Olympic weight lifter, staggered out from one home, 152 East 62nd Street, to another, 224 East 32nd Street, under heavy loads of photographic equipment. Something gave way. Flat on his back in a hospital and writhing in agony, Ralph heard the doctors say: disk. It slipped.
Ellwood Fisher and Harry Chamberlaine, Dan Ruggles and Bill Beers will be sorry that Ted Hartshorn will not be seen at the Fortieth. The reason may interest Nels Barker. Because Ted has had one glaucoma and two cataract operations, he has used up all the business time he has to his credit. He writes: "My sight is so much improved that the operations were well worth it." The sympathy of 1921 also goes to Ted with the severance of an important link he had with Hanover and Vermont. His brother, Professor Emeritus Elben B. Hartshorn '12, the Dartmouth chemist, a resident of Lyndonville, Vt., died of cancer in the Hanover Hospital February 27.
But Bill Floyd may be seen at the Fortieth, despite business pressures, for there can be no doubt that he will be present at Commencement. His son Retie is receiving his sheepskin. This exciting and proud moment for Bill is the climax of 26 years of his children's schooling with Retie the only Floyd to graduate from the College Bill so loves: Dartmouth.
Starry-eyed, Phil Noyes is cushioned on a rainbow. At 62 few men would be wanted in a new high school, but Phil is. Beginning September 1, he will become Head of the Department of Foreign Languages at the Old Rochester Regional High School, a new multi-million-dollar building serving Marion, Mattapoisett, and Rochester.
An educator different from Phil Noyes, Russ Goodnow is eyeing what he calls "a neat problem." Elected last autumn to the School Committee of Barrington, R. I., a fast-growing bedroom town which puts some 250 more youngsters into school each September, Russ has to face complaints from tax-hating parents about increasing school costs. They may or may not be the same teacher-spurners who want at the old and depressed salary rates only the best instruction for their children. Russ has to face also complaints from crowd-hating older residents who resent encroachments on their privacy and who deplore the deterioration of "civilized values" by which they mean the leisure, politeness, and peace .of twenty years ago. Accordingly, in judicious amounts, Russ dispenses sweetness and justice, cajolery and enlightenment, "a neat problem" indeed.
Frank Hickman is editor and publisher of the Changing World Number, International Edition 1960-1961 of The Cotton Trade Journal, a sumptuous production costing $3, running to 272 pages, and containing authoritative specific and general articles from some thirty countries. One advertisement reads: "For Sale, Weekend Cottage on the Moon." The rumor in East Berlin is that Mao has outbid Khrushchev for it. One illustration shows chess being played with live peasants in medieval costumes on a huge chessboard painted on the central square of Marostica, Vicenza (Italy), a village as yet untouched by the atomic age. Prof. George E. Lent, Director of Research, Tuck School, plans to make use of this International Edition in his courses.
Remember tortoise-shell picks and mandolins? In our student days Dartmouth had an excellent player .from East Rochester, N. H., Larry Faunce, known to us as Kid. He was by no means alone in extolling the virtues of that instrument once associated with Hawaiian moonlight, Picardy roses, and Venetian gondolas. Leader of the Mandolin Club, Red Ege was supported by expert or "first" mandolinists: Cory Litchard, Paul Sanderson, and Ted Sonnenfeld. Colorful and temperamental "second" mandolinists made back- ground harmony: Tortoise Shell Ankeny and Harry Chamberlaine. At the Fortieth, long absent from the Dartmouth scene, Larry will be welcomed by his fellow-musicians and by his Sanborn dorm mates. Particularly eager to greet him will be his Alpha Chi Rho friends: Charlie Gilson, a potential harp specialist (Heaven is his destination); Ted Merriam, who may tell us about the effect of Hawaiian moonlight on contemporary players (the rumor is that potbellies are out and Gibsons in); Bob Wilson, who has heard sweet music in North Africa and cacophonous janglings in the Pacific and Japan; and Joe Walker, like Larry, a New Hampshire man by birth. For '21 men interested in moonlight and rose-bud communication other than musical, Larry will have some fascinating news. He has been involved in a chain letter with such notable non-ascetics as Artie Shaw, Tommy Manville, Mickey Rooney, and King Farouk. The prizes will make your hair curl and lead you to think that you are 30 years younger than you are. Details on request June 12-14 from Laurence S. Faunce.
Carter Hoyt, 1922's new Class Agent, who is directing his class's part in the 1961 Fund campaign seeking one million dollars.
