1939's 25th
Now is the winter of our discontent made glorious summer by that sun of Reunion. While Richard III trod the boards nightly in the Hopkins Center theatre, a perfect sun of York glared down on us for four straight days making scarlet the thinning, addled pates of Cummings, Mattlage and Sam Hird, who put on their own production of "Crossing the Bar" with the directive help of Mike Ellis. At the end of this four-day panoply of withering vigor Dr. NedBayrd officially declared we had had it, and promised us each a package of hemoglobin to carry us through our second half-century. In short, gentlemen, we had a ball!
At the class banquet Saturday night President Dickey saluted the long suffering reunion wives who add dignity to our cavorting and their counter signatures to our gift checks. Then M.C. Hal MacGilpin introduced our main speaker Art Larkin, who allowed that maybe we weren't very smart but by God we were raising a bunch of bright kids. Then, on this enlightening evolutionary trend we repaired to the tent in front of Russell Sage to hear the antiphonal harmonies of Fred Upton, Fred Worden.Bill Tomkins and clean-shaven old Bob Alpert, Jake Holland, Henry Glovsky and other unlikely groaners, gloriously led by "Spantran" Kuhlke.
Chairman Bert reported that 188 classmates had returned, with 165 wives and several hundred kids who were beautifully handled by Pied Piper chairman SamThurm, separated into three age groups, and we didn't lose a one. Meanwhile Sam's wife Ruth won the low gross golf trophy. Interesting reversal. Bob English won it for men and Larkin won low net for a 70. Ernie Heydt and daughter Susan each won a tennis trophy. Bill Webster won an ice cube for curling and Ed Oppenheim had the best Dow-Jones Industrial average.
Our co-chairmen of Memorial Gifts, IrvNaitove and Junie Merriam, received a standing ovation when they turned over to President Dickey a check from the Class of 1939 representing total giving since graduation, the sum of $566,000, the most received from any class to date. From 1939 to this year we had totaled $442,000. We needed $122,000 to equal the class of '37. We collected $124,000 this year from 350 guys without any real big individual gifts (though several looked sizable to me, but we won't embarrass them here). The point was made that this represents a milestone in new class cohesiveness. In short, we have arrived. We wrote six months ago in this column that you'd feel good if we had something to brag about, and from observing you this weekend it was apparent that you felt good.
This was partly due to Charlie Gluek who sent to Ted Wolfe enough cans of beer which, if laid end to end along U.S. route 5, we wouldn't be surprised. The Baxter Prescott family won the Margaret Sanger Award for bringing the most kids to reunion - six. Elin and Jim Parks and family and the Kim Ayres family shared the "who came farthest" trophy, because no one could figure out whether Casablanca or the Libyan Desert had it made.
From the minute we checked into the tent in front of Russell Sage it became our center of gravity. Moose Wyman ransacked part of the class treasury of $7,000 to buy gunpowder which he made into cherry bombs while wife Betsy (Madame Defarge) knit delayed action fuses. The efficient cordon of campus police deputized Colby Howe in a Mack Sennett outfit to try to catch Moose in the act with the aid of assistant Attorney General Lou Oberdorfer, but all they caught was Bud Finck disguised as Guy Fawkes.
Henry Bagg, Bob Hagge, Lou Oldershaw and Moreau Brown were standing by at the check-in point to offer no help with baggage, tell people how to find volley balls, advise overheated classmates to drop dead, and perform other helpful chores. Thursday the College hosted us to cocktails in the tent with the Tanzi Freres as bartenders and hogsheads as jiggers. Resplendent in our white Palaeopitus hats and badges, we were again hosted to an excellent roast beef dinner at Thayer (which John Treadway still doesn't own as yet). Tickets for Richard III were at a premium but thanks to Jim Garnett we made it — at least for Act I. Fabulous production. Meanwhile, back at the tent such notables as Earle Robison, Roy Middleworth, Pep Gray, Phil Sanborn and Clem Burnap formed a nucleus, watched medically by Doctors MauriceCostin and Allan Friedlich. Then, when Danny Hull told us Joe Crehan had once anesthetized Anthony Eden we checked him on his brand of Nirvana. As it turned out, it wasn't necessary. Ours was better. The decibel noise rating in the surrounding dorms was wicked. It was then that Dune Fair, waxing with New Testament knowledge, deafly led his wife back to Lord Hall saying, alas, they must be there because "there was no room for them at the Inn." That night the star of the east loomed large.
Next day breakfast in the tent was God awful, but those of us who had the good sense to attend the Hopkins Center's Hanover Holiday program, a forum on "Understanding Latin American Problems," were richly rewarded by a passionate ArmandoChardiet, moderated by John Steele and including Dartmouth wits and wisdoms on our southern neighbors. Also, the air conditioning in Spaulding Auditorium was ginger peachy.
Those attending the Tuck-Thayer-Medical Schools had their respective luncheons while the rest of us were scheduled from noon to 5 p.m. at what is laughingly called "Leisure Activities." Some of the younger fellows braved the heat and headed for the links, such as the Brooks Brownfield Corporation (Dick Brooks, Bob Brown, and Bob Field) where they held a tax deductible annual shareholders meeting and decided to offer their new Dartmouth fabric as casket lining to soon departed friends. Junie,Dave Lilly, Boots Hoskinson, Bert, DickJackson were among others who returned suitably unrefreshed. Some went to Storrs Pond which now has a pool. Meanwhile our daughter Auby was playing the zither in our room while three city blocks in the center of Lebanon, N. H., burned to the ground. Robb De Graff kept us well informed via his two-way wrist radio. By cocktail time at the tent a smoky haze had settled over the Vermont hills.
The alumni dinner at the Leverone Field House (so named because Fieldy gave half the money) was huge but efficiently handled. Wally Davis exhibited some of his talents and John Litchfield explained the skiing prospects in Galesburg. Ill. After which we repaired to President Dickey's garden where during the informal reception Endy Smith picked a corsage of late-blooming peonies for Georgette. Then to 14 Silsby Hall, home of Freshman Smut, to view the class movies. As Ed Searles remarked, the state of the art has certainly progressed since "Gone With the Wind." We watched Dick Shaw fall off his pony after the Sachem Oration. George Hanna led every mortar-boarded procession carrying a hatchet and never cracking a smile. Only Rodger Harrison looks the same, but maybe he wasn't feeling good then.
We had to help Betsy Wyman make more fuses during the alumni dance but we had one of our own in the kids' tent, and before you knew it, it was Saturday.
Breakfast was great. Brooksie forgot the Bloody Marys, but everybody was so anxious to get to the Filene Auditorium to hear Eddie Chamberlain tell us how easy it would be to get our sons into Dartmouth that no one minded. The audience was at capacity and we kept Eddie 20 minutes overtime asking questions. Our class meeting followed immediately. Walt Darby introduced the nominating committee of Ev Woodman, Joe Batehelder and Endy Smith. The democratic process became a bit jumbled but after the smoke cleared and the new executive committee held their organizational meeting we found ourselves fortunate in being steered by new faces whose steady hands on the helm will carry our aegis into quiet waters of mixed metaphors. Bert MacMannis, capable chairman of this reunion, becomes chairman to serve until our 30th reunion; Hank Conkle, secretary; Al Tishman, treasurer; Joe Batehelder, class agent; Walt Darby continues as newsletter editor, Moose Wyman, bequest chairman. Other members of the executive committee: George Hanna, Bob Gibson, Chuck Farnum. Colby Howe, Howie Chivers, Bozo Noland, Bob Cushman, Sam Hird, Bob Field, Art Larkin, Dick Jackson, and Jack Schrage. The usual thanks for the jobs performed by the outgoing committee were tossed in the hat. Especially to Jocko Vincens for the excellent edition of the 25-year book. We upped the class dues to $10 a year, sat out in the boiling sun to have our pictures taken, then oozed on down to Memorial Field for the picnic, where EarleSeeley and Bill Carter with the aid of a bull horn passed out more door prizes than we've ever had before.
We have 'not endeavored to mention all classmates who attended, Walt Darby will catch this later in a newsletter. Nor will we endeavor to thank, give credit or kudos to all who worked so darned hard making these four days memorable. Nor will we thank those on and off the executive committee who helped keep the class functioning these last six years, or these past 25 years for that matter. Most did what they did because they wanted to.
Anyway let's say that our schedule offered. "gathering and snacks in the tent after the class banquet Saturday night and this was a real dilly - a real understatement. We had a hoe-down that lasted till dawn and there were no survivors capable of reporting. We had a teen-age orchestra from Boston sporting a tattooed "Boom-bass" player and a gypsy caravan of lunch wagons that sold wife Cocky a' napkin full of fried onions for 30 cents.
And then came Sunday with another gourmet breakfast. Herb Hirschland led the way to the Bema for Memorial Services. It was shady and cool there. Maybe 200 or so in attendance. Bob English played the organ. It's a perfect setting for suddenly feeling serious. Chaplain Lt. Col. John Evans discussed our deceased classmates and spoke of them as "those who through their own experiences, contributed to the lives of others." Then the Rev. Steve Bachelder warned us that "danger is not Communism or Fascism, but Somnambulism. Stay awake to life."
As we left the Bema everything looked so pleasant and as we always remembered it. Classmates, wives, and families were draining quietly out of Hanover. And we left too, without needing to say many goodbyes.
A pilgrimage to Tanzi's was one part ofreunion "reliving" for many an alumnus.
The three '39 partners of Brooks Brownfield Co. - Dick Brooks, Bob Brown andBob Field - pose in the office of College Secretary Sid Hayward '26 in front of theDartmouth wallpaper they are now marketing. The design is available also in fabric.
RETIRING CLASS SECRETARY
