HANOVER UNDER COVER

There are, of course, many places in Hanover where many different individuals and informal groups gather with varying regularity for a wide variety of purposes ranging from business or serious conversation over lunch or the coffee cups for gossip and laughter and beer, or even highballs and a little poker. There are such public places as the Green Lantern Inn, the Hanover Inn Coffee Shop, and Lou's Main Street bistro. There is the Spirits Room in the Hanover Inn as well as the Faculty Lounge in Hopkins Center with coffee or glasses or ice available. There is the luncheon arrangement in Alumni Hall, also in Hopkins, where an attractive dollar lunch for people connected with the College lures all sorts of committee meetings and rendezvous of varying nature. But in all these spots one is more or less in the public eye and apt to be joined by other friends with intentions which may be serious or social.

On the other hand there are less public spots in Hanover where conferences or diversion may be had. Some of these may be fairly well known, others very little known, and there are some, I am sure, not known to this writer, even though Dean Emeritus McDonald is wont to call him the "Town Crier." Some of them are definitely on a high plane and semi-official. There is, for example, a small conference room back of the President's office and the Trustees' room which can be used for private conference or negotiation, a story, or a telephone call. There is a semi-secret hideaway high up in Baker Library tower which was especially designed for President Hopkins. And there is a room in the basement of Massachusetts Hall, known to relatively few Hanoverians, which houses a largescale model of the College plant and is equipped with comfortable chairs to accommodate visiting firemen who may be interested in one way or another in plant development.

There is a wide variety of departmental lounges for talk and banter and coffee, sometimes, as in Reed Hall, tucked away in the basement and frequented by laughing historians and serious-minded economists. The library staff have a hideaway in the basement of Baker; the Geography Department goes to the other level and enjoys coffee and chit-chat every morning on the top floor of McNutt, with an invitation to majors and anybody else who wanders in. And so it goes. There are many other such informal arrangements.

Then one thinks of the D.O.C. House on Occom Pond which is known to many of you as a delightful place for lunch or dinner but which is now only open to the public in the summer months. In the winter, however, it is sometimes used for select groups, local or otherwise, who wish to party in a holiday atmosphere and in proper seclusion, though these are usually gatherings with some College affiliation.

So far, in fact, our talk has been chiefly gown. Real undercover activities, it seems, are more associated with the town with some additions from the gown. Business operations on Main Street are more efficient and faster moving than in the old days, and there is less opportunity for sociability. But there are still a few chances! Rand's Furniture Store, in business on about the same site since 1865, has comfortable toilet facilities at basement level which offer a wide variety of reading material and a chance for a quiet visit. And sometimes on a football weekend or in the holiday season word is passed that after the store is closed libations will be poured to the Goddess of Victory or in honor of Kris Kringle. When the spirit moves it is always possible to find some pagan divinity who needs to be placated, though of late the pressure of business seems more often than formerly to interfere with such a noble purpose.

There is a room in the basement of the Municipal Building, officially assigned, I think, to the Fire Department, where parties have been held which centered on a wonderful old-fashioned chowder but which included a certain amount of cheer before and after and which often led into recitations and stories and songs. With no lights visible from Main Street, the average citizen was unaware that such a jolly party was in progress.

A more recent development involves a dozen or so of the more influential and successful figures in Hanover who have rented a hideaway, just off Main Street, where they may relax at their pleasure and where the whole world may become their happy oyster. This room, I understand, is used sometimes for business deals, sometimes for political talk, but more often, I gather, for idle chatter, a drink or two to ease the tension, and an occasional poker game. It serves the purpose of an exclusive private men's club, free from the interruptions and distractions of both the business world and home and family, where a spade is a spade and there are "no holts barred." Members have keys and may enter at any time, but since the Hanover Gazette's office is hard by it seems best to have full sessions in the evening hours when the inquiring reporter and candid camera are not on duty.

And there are, of course, sporadic gatherings behind closed doors sparked by some significant occurrence such as an opening or a closing, a wedding or a divorce. Hanover, so far as I know, is not much given to office parties but once in a while something breaks. I happened one day last fall to drop by the new Hanover offices of our local law firm. It was just about 5 in the afternoon and to my pleasant surprise as I was ushered in I found a small party of younger townsmen in progress in celebration of the first day of occupancy. The lights in the front office were out, the curtains were drawn, and gaiety and good humor prevailed. It would have been fun at any other place, such as the home of one of the chaps, but there was that added incongruity of being in a plush new law office with wall to wall carpeting, where tomorrow's business might range through deeds and contracts to writs and wills, or even to concern with some of the deeper tragedies in human relations. It was almost like having a party in a court room.

This brief account, I am sure, but skims the surface of the subject at hand but does give a glimpse of a little publicized side of Hanover life - both town and gown, separately or in cahoots. One recalls Hilaire Belloc's line, "There's nothing worth the wear of winning but laughter and the love of friends." I don't happen to agree that these things are quite all of life but they do have mighty important and comforting roles!