The Undergraduate Chail

THERE was more rain on the Hanover Plain than most people had remembered for many summers, but those who were wise about New Hampshire said that the weeks of cloudy skies and umbrellas would be compensated by particularly brilliant fall coloring. Like the weather the mood of the College was somewhat uncertain. There was a sense of waiting and transition, and there was some change.

Dartmouth was still looking for a new President to replace John Sloan Dickey. The Third Century Fund pushed beyond the halfway mark but in many areas decisions were marked "pending" until a new man could assume the corner office on the second floor of Parkhurst and attempt to mold the institution to his own vision. Leonard Rieser, Dean of the Faculty, was taking several months off to study coeducation with representatives of the Board of Trustees, and Dean Seymour left for the presidency of Wabash College.

Carroll Brewster, new Dean of the College and an enthusiastic and energetic lawyer from New Haven, brought two new men with him into the Dean's Office. Paul Shafer, a kindly, lowkeyed Professor of Chemistry, left his job as chairman of the department to become Associate Dean of the College. Edward G. Williams '64, a former member of the United States Olympic Ski Team, brought an athletic touch to the Dean's Office and assumed the post of Assistant Dean.

With the Presidency and most of the important Dean's Office posts in some state of flux, there was a good deal of speculation about what, if any, new directions the College would be taking and the impact that new personalities in administrative positions would have on the academic community. But change was not confined to the College.

The Nugget raised admission from $1.00 to $1.25 and Tanzi's, an institution of 72 years' standing, closed down, ending one of the largest beer distributorships in northern New England and forcing old habits and routines to seek new paths. One whole section of South Main Street fell to the wrecker's ball and the Hanover Improvement Society's dreams of brick conformity. The Specialty Shop, Ward Amidon's, the bakery and, of course, Edith's had to move out until a new building abutting the theatre is completed. There was some grumbling, some regret about these changes, but on the whole they were accepted as part of the rhythm of New England town life.

There were other events, however, which jarred the rhythm of life. The trials of students involved in the May 6 takeover of Parkhurst Hall were concluded early in September by the College Committee on Standing and Conduct (CCSC) leaving David Green, a sophomore, permanently separated from the College, two others suspended, five acquitted, and the remainder of the 39 students on college discipline. The hearings, begun in the late spring as students involved in the takeover were being released from their 26 days in jail, were chaotic. William Ballard, Professor of Biology, chaired the committee during the spring hearings in the cramped and often noisy quarters of a lecture hall in Gilman. By his own admission Ballard neither wanted the job nor had the experience to handle the political and judicial pressures stemming from the presence of an emotionally charged audience at many of the hearings. At times the CCSC lost control of its own room when the spectators drew pictures of kangaroos on the blackboard and sang "Tie Me Kangaroo Down" while the committee was in executive session.

There were some who believed that the CCSC had no right to try the 39 students involved in the takeover, since most of them had already served time in jail for violating an injunction which contained the same guidelines on freedom of expression and dissent on which the CCSC was basing its charges. However, if one believed that the CCSC trials were justified, and most people did, the actual disciplinary measures handed out were not nearly as severe as they might have been and in many cases were more lenient than the students involved had expected.

September and the beginning of the college year brought 70 women, attending Dartmouth under the ten-college exchange plan, along with an unusually large freshman class of 850, about 90 of whom were black. With the extra women and the extra freshmen the college housing office was desperately searching for places to put everyone. As students prepared to return, a letter from Dean Brewster to all undergraduates advised them that parietal hours as such were no longer a part of the Dartmouth residence regulations. The Board of Trustees had authorized in their place a broad policy stating simply that Dartmouth students were required "to behave in an orderly and lawful way in Hanover and its environs."

As the beginning of classes approached the feeling of change was brushed aside momentarily and some of the old traditions reasserted themselves. The freshmen were taught to make their one-year investment on the bet that the three-year return would be more than worth it. Upperclassmen prepared for the old ritual of fraternity rush where a man's worth is rated with a number and his ability to make effective small talk may determine who his friends will be in the next three years. Many acknowledge the weaknesses of rush but find themselves caught in a tradition they don't know how to change. So the often hollow routine goes on and some sophomores will find satisfaction in the results. Others will not and they will retreat temporarily to lick their wounds. Having healed they will reach tentatively outside of themselves once again to seek the kind of fellowship which each man envisions for himself.

Two of the 90 black students making this year's freshman class an unusual one areshown with classmates at Thayer Hall. L to r, Swift C. Barnes III, Newburyport,Mass.; George C. Riley III, Paterson, N. J.; Derek J. Rice, Long Island City, N. Y.;and Stephen P. Stetson, Laconia, N. H.

With this issue Winthrop A. Rockwell '70 of Clinton, N. Y., assumes occupancy of The Undergraduate Chair. A government major, he is program director of WDCR, a member of the Course Guide staff, and the campus correspondent for the New York Times. He is the son of Landon G. Rockwell '35, chairman of the government department at Hamilton College.