1939
Our attitude toward Christmas cards has gotten Scrooge-like with the passing of years. We concur with and subscribe to intra-family schemes to "cut down the list," and "let's skip the in-towners this year." But, if you're ever lucky enough to be a class secretary (and we hope you will be) and then be blessed with 16 Christmas cards from classmates on the eve of a class notes deadline, your attitude will flip and you'll take the pledge with Marlay's ghost as we have and render Hallmark, Chryson's, and Henri Fayette as venerable as the Dead Sea Scrolls.
As usual, we will categorize the cards into angels, wise-men on camels, madonnas on donkeys, decorative, family pictures, silly reindeer, and other appropriate subjects.
For instance, Jean and Bob Field sent a picture of a much younger looking couple with hair and pink cheeks riding a horse-drawn wagon .through the snow to ostensibly grandmother's house bearing a sign on the rear of the wagon reading "We've Moved." And sure enough, they have — to Main Street, Norwell, Mass. Jean further enlight- ens us that they are in the country, they bought a 250-year-old house and completely re-did it. It was exciting and fun and they love it. From other less direct sources we have Fieldy's business address: International Shoe Machine Corp., Product Development, 1380 Soldier's Field Rd., Boston 35, Mass.
In the "Silly Reindeer" category we heard from Polly and Bob Cushman in the impregnable confines of Worcester, Mass., begging us to drop in "en famille" avec kids during the unlikely coincidence of a business trip bringing us all in that vicinity. However, no one is completely safe fronTthat fate and Zeus's thunderbolts have been known to strike erratically.
Hiding behind a panel of the "Three Kings from Orient Are" was a note on the card from Kay and Jim Donovan, Col., USMC stationed at Camp Lejeune, N. C. Jim writes he is "in command of some 1600 young gents who keep me busy in the famous 2nd Marine Division (my old WW II division) where we are enjoying the mild weather and natural beauties of North Carolina. Spent part of October and November afloat off Florida ready to go in and clobber Castro. Lucky for Cuber we didn't do it!"
From Peterborough, N. H., noteless, but none the less from the Bill Russells, a picture of Joseph leading an ass bearing Mary and infant Jesus oddly titled "Flight into Egypt." And from Simsbury, Conn., a manger scene from the Paul Winships without any up-to-date scoop from our latter-day Mr. Chips. Jane and Colin Churchill sent a picture of a little kid with a halo fondling a lamb, obviously a close relative. And the HaskellDavenports sent a picture of four Christmas tree ornaments postmarked Winnetka, Ill., with no further news but who needs it?
Betty and Henry Bagg are always good for an annual blast. We initiated the information that we probably wouldn't be going to the Hot Countries this winter, and we get the reply, "We won't be going anywhere either - all four children are away at school ranging from Maine to Washington, D. C., and in ages from 20 to 15. Do a lot of skiing in the winter and run into the Cushmans and Winships occasionally. Hope we'll all make reunion," etc. (Hope we have a reunion! - Ed.)
Scribbled on the back side of a scene of three ginks riding camels through a spindly forest are the following excerpts from Bettyand Jack Cumming: "Acquired a power boat last spring, so spent summer on Narragansett Bay watching twelve-meter races, the "Royal Family" come and go from Newport; all of which ruined my golf. I'd much rather retire now and work later. (Come, come, Jack.) Oldest boy, Jay, a sophomore at Hobart, Sudie off to college next year, and Dave to prep school, leaving ma and pa home for the next eight years or so... (Plenty of time to kibitz the Kennedys!)
Ellie and John Davenport sent a photograph of a painting of their horse barn inscribed "Merry Christmas and Horseshoes of Luck." Close inspection reveals that the artist of the original was also a Davenport, but we don't know which one. The horses must all be inside eating.
Speaking of eating, the picture of the Merriam progeny looks like a high food budget. Four handsome girls and one very young lad are spread out on the lawn with Junie's remaining two Golden Retrievers voraciously eyeing the cameraman. The balance of this litter of Goldens, you may recall, Junie mailed to non-contributors of the Alumni Fund. It must have been quite a litter.
Alice and Bob Hagge sent sketches of their daughter, Leigh, and three sons, Woodson, Cyrus, and Robin, all printed on white paper bells ringing out the old and in the new and all that sort of thing. There was no mention of Bob's liver or gizzard which was acting up last fall when we had a phone conversation. Presumably the Mayo's forged him a new one and he is still with us. Ceseeand Russ Fette invited us back to St. Louis so we can "better appreciate home." And Jane and Bill Kent, whom Cocky and I last saw at the Homestead over a year ago, and who share with us and many other classmates a frustrating environment of teenagers, took the courageous and hopeful approach for 1963.
The final category of cards, the Happy Monks, had two examples. The first, post-marked Glendale, Ohio, pictures a goofy Friar Tuck dancing with six little angels and probably holds no hidden meaning for Louisa and John Egbert. At any rate, there were no bon mots added. The second, from Glenn and Jocko Vincens, continues their series of Laurel and Hardy monks in sack cloth clicking glasses over the chartreuse bottle. It was mailed from Orchard Home Farm, Kinderhook, N. Y., and the note infers that something beats working, but we're not sure what. Jocko refers to Albany as the crossroads of America, dial 774-7494, which must be the combination of the safe in the bank where he is now trust officer.
See what I mean? Column's done. Christmas cards are great!
Secretary, 1908 Coolidge Drive Dayton 19, Ohio
Treasurer, 25 Sound View Drive Huntington Bay Hills, L. I., N. Y.
