1918
Our "Roar" editors the Binghams being still in Europe, I suppose (though I've watched my mailbox in vain for a picture postcard of the Eiffel Tower or the Houses of Parliament) in their absence I'll scoop them by dropping a name or two. First, though, compliments to them for the multitude of interesting personals in their August issue. They always - Whoa! Stop press! lust arrived is the September "Roar" brilliantly conceived by their generous substitute editor, Cortland Horr, whose idea sons and daughters and grandchildren of 'Eighteen variously, but always sincerely, joyously executed. The "generation gap" cliche is validly derived, no doubt, but across the gap affectionate admiration flows - both ways. My own highschool chum Cliff Daniels, after writing graciously of how much he and Adeline enjoyed our Fiftieth, adds welcome words about a one-time student of mine, their son Clifford Joseph D. '57, lately moved to Holland, "where," says Cliff Senior, "he'll assist Gulf and Western Industries and Paramount Pictures with some simple problem to which I expect he'll be smart enough to give an abstruse answer...." By the way, Cliff, Vermont foliage is red and gold and glorious again, as it was that 1914 Sunday when you and I wandered through old Ledyard Bridge and up to Norwich and on beyond, dazed by the beauty around us, until we literally got lost. A farmer's kindly wife gave us a meal, you remember, and directed us on our way back to Hanover. Today autumn is again at its height. But by the time you read this, we may be saying "Winter is a-coomin' in." Gas stations are even now selling snow tires!
Dwight Sargent, whose vacation spot Union Village, Vt. - is so close by that he didn't have to write me about his son; rather, he and Peg invited me up to hear them tell of the pleasure and stimulus their David '42 derived this summer from attending Dartmouth's Alumni College. They thought the pay-off line was David's: "Dad! You and Mother ought to try it next year!" Ah, youth! Only 25 years out...!
Al Sibbemsen's grandson chauffeured him last June from his model farm in Bennington, Nebr., across the muddy Missouri to lowa's Sioux City. There, after he'd done the business that required the trip, he indulged in the pleasure of looking up some old friends he'd not seen for a number of years, Homer and Maebelle Johnson. Homer, after 21 years as auditor with Fairmount Creamery, is now retired therefrom not to leisure but, at 72, to remain active as head of Zenith Corporation's Employees Credit Union. An able, solid, and useful citizen if ever there was one, with charm of personality that makes him quietly popular; with total integrity that accounts for his associates' confidence, their trust, in him; with warmth of heart that has gained and reflects his family's love for him. I know not, nor care, what his politics may be. He has character, and a level head. Our nation needs more like him.
Several weeks back I went up to the David Pierce Studio to order an enlargement of the Class's Golden Reunion group photograph that we had taken on the steps of Webster Hall. A commonplace errand, certainly. But when Mr. Pierce heard me murmur ". . . Eighteen," he uttered something between a growl and a groan. "Why don't all your classmates follow the directions on our printed order slip? They sign their names but don't give home addresses!" I kept calm. "Oh come, Mr. Pierce. No Eighteener, surely, is so absent-minded as that." He grinned. "Six of them are. Possibly the dregs of the class, and you'd hardly know them. But, here, look at their names." As my eye ran down the list I was appalled. Dregs? Some of our biggest wheels! On their behalf I apologized to Mr. Pierce, and then I hastened home to consult Dick White's admirable brochure. It yielded addresses of the following, who now know why their pictures reached them tardily: Fred Cassebeer,Dewey Doolittle, Ed Healey, Tom Shirley,Dave Skinner, and Russ Tout.
Our thanks to Paul Miner for sending us good and welcome news about Curtis Birkenmayer, who, says Paul, "has just returned to his home following a heart attack that kept him in the St. Petersburg Veterans' Hospital for six weeks. He is making a good recovery," continues Paul, "seemed glad to see me, and would gladly hear from other Eighteeners. His address is 17715 Gulf Boulevard, St. Petersburg, Fla. 33708. Many of us remember Jud from 'way back in 1914, when he was a star fullback on our freshman football team. He was with us in Hanover - roomed in South Mass - for only a year, but he has always been a most loyal classmate."
Far from well, regretfully I report, is Gilman Davis, whose wife Doris writes that he is hospitalized near their home in Haverhill - within walking distance for her. As I have written her, I remember Gil in college particularly in our freshman year, when he lived in "my" dorm, the North Mass chapter house of Delta Alpha. Later as upperclassmen we saw little of each other, it chanced, but I clearly recall his impressing me as a very sweet and manly person.
Secretary, Elm St., Norwich, Vt. 05055
Treasurer, 45 Rip Rd., Hanover, N. H. 03755
Bequest Chairman,
