Old-time Student Diversions
The American undergraduate is an interesting specimen. He usually seems less mature than his foreign counterpart, and probably is, and over the years has been given to pranks and procedures which have seemed very strange to foreign visitors. Along with their pranks, however, students in an isolated college such as Dartmouth used to be were ingenious in devising ways, and means of entertaining themselves and it is a sampling of these devices that I would like to present here, partly to stir pleasant memories in the old-timers and partly to enlighten and amuse the younger Dartmouth generation.
World War I marks a turning point in world history and 1916 specifially marks something of a watershed in social life at Dartmouth for that year saw the introduction of the first regular showing of movies in Hanover and the entering wedge of the subsitution of "being entertained" for "entertaining one's self." Things did not change overnight, of course, but a start was made and the automobile and the radio, and more recently TV, have driven the wedge deeper.
A query by Admiral Gene Markey '18, on the occasion of a recent visit to Hanover, reminded me of one custom I had almost forgotten. "Do they still have the sings?" asked Gene. My first thought was of the highly organized fraternity song contest which occurs now each May, but then I realized that the Admiral was referring to a much more spontaneous event which for years occupied many happy undergraduate hours, particularly in the evenings of the late Hanover spring. It was the custom on a warm evening for almost the entire undergraduate College to gather on the Green, summoned by the chapel bells or by word of mouth. The senior class congregated on the west side by the Senior Fence, the sophomore class opposite on the east side, the juniors on the north end, and the freshmen on the south. Each class sang a song or two — making the rounds by classes for as many times as the spirit moved - then at a given signal the four classes advanced to the center where cheers and Men ofDartmouth closed the evening. Passing townsfolk and faculty stopped to listen and applaud. It all seemed simple and childish to the present-day undergraduate - and perhaps it was - but it stimulated a sense of corporate unity rarely experienced today and it filled an evening with song and good fellowship.
Even more remembered, and more frequent of occurrence, were the informal groupings in front of College Hall, or on the old barber shop steps across the way, and singing which lasted at times far into the night. Sometimes willing hands moved a piano outside at College Hall and the old-time version of the modern jam-session got underway to the delight of a growing crowd of students. Names that come easily to mind are Sample and Breglio and Andretta of 1920, Jack Childs '09, and John Chipman '19. I leave it to the old-timers each to provide his own cherished list of those instrumentalists who with piano and banjo and the rest filled happy hours with music.
"Delta Alpha" has long since been forgotten in Hanover but forty, fifty and sixty years ago it was another of the undergraduate diversions, operated chiefly by committees elected by the various dormitories, and designed to make sure that each entering class was duly inducted into the Dartmouth spirit and set fairly on the road to becoming full-blooded Dartmouth men. The first week was largely hazing, and in addition to moving furniture and beating rugs the freshmen in each dorm were put through their paces for an hour or two late every evening. There were peanut races and climbing contests and often a severe examination by the sophomore committee. A favorite question was "Did you come to Dartmouth to benefit the College or benefit yourself?", and no matter which way the innocent freshman answered he was probably in for a good paddling.
As the week wore on the sophomore committee of one dorm would make a deal with the committee of another dorm and the freshman forces of one were pitted against the comparable forces of the other. I shall never forget Sanborn's attempt to board the good ship Reed. And for the opening football game in the fall we always had the "Delta Alpha" parade, in costumes weird and amusing, and skits between the halves. To modern ears it all sounds crude, and somewhat debasing, but in retrospect at least it was fun and somehow made its definite contribution to Dartmouth life and spirit.
Another special event, occurring in the spring, was the fight for the freshman picture. The purpose was for the freshmen to get, within specified time and territorial limits, a picture of a considerable group of the class while the sophomores tried to prevent it. Elaborate plans and ruses were arranged in advance in the greatest secrecy. Distant spots, difficult of access and detection, were usually selected, though on at least one occasion the picture was taken close by South Main Street. Reports differ as to which side more frequently won but it was a good tactical exercise and furnished much excitement.
For some years, each spring witnessed a vigorous campaign for the election of a student Mayor of Hanover - sometimes on town meeting day, which was a holiday then, sometimes on St. Patrick's Day, and sometimes even later. Posters on behalf of the rival candidates were displayed, parades which featured horse-drawn vehicles were the order of the day, and speeches were made from College Hall Porch or the old watering trough across from the Inn. Each candidate announced a simple but appealing platform — typical planks being a pipe line from Montreal with beer taps on the Green or free transportation to Smith. Among those elected to this honorary office some will recall "Swede" Needham '11, described as "a Swede with Irish blood," Basil "Doc" O'Connor '12, Bernard "Red" Spillane '13, John L. Sullivan '21, and Sidney "Irish" Flanigan '23.
Other old-fashioned student diversions, when both automobiles and girls were rare articles indeed in Hanover, included a great deal of walking, to Lebanon or the "June" or a D.O.C. Cabin, walking the railroad tracks and hitching a ride on a freight, keg parties held usually beyond the town limits and often across the river in the Republic of Vermont, dunking recalcitrant freshmen in the watering trough with the dunking sometimes including a sophomore whom the freshmen felt was asking for it, snowshoe parties (there was hardly a ski in Hanover before World War I), excursions into the countryside with a gun and an eye for birds or rabbits, cane rushes, and class fights.
And so one might go on. Names and faces come crowding into memories of the happy hours of those simple times in a college town which was still in many ways an isolated North Country village in a world not yet set on fire with atomic fission. They seem very simple and unsophisticated in 1962, but as Charles Dana Gibson said of his "Gibson Girl" days, "If I remember correctly we had a good time then too."
