1919

Just before Easter when not many postmen were bestirring themselves, our Mr Gandy brought The Bulletin from Hanover' It told of the disappearance from the scene of the last vestiges of The Nugget on West Wheelock Street right in behind where Scotty s used to be. This brought to mind nostalgic memories of 1916 when it was first built. There we watched, when Freddie McCrea had money enough to stake us, the Gish sisters, Theda Bara, or maybe Norma Talmadge do the most exciting things on the silver screen. That it (the screen) was slightly pock-marked by peanuts made these lovelies no less prurient (a word we did not know then). And when the Indian hid from his pursuers the audience was quick to help vocally with. "Behind the tree, you dopes, behind the tree." From opening day, BillCunningham was solidly on the stool in front of the piano, his broad back to the audience. Each customer of the place came armed with a sack of peanuts, arid tens of thousands of peanuts must have bounced oft Bills back from then until he left for the war The shrapnel must have seemed like nothing. One evening as he took his place, a sign was hanging down his back. Do not shoot the piano player, he is doing the best he can." But Bill knew, as we all did, mat there was no bitterness about all this. There was no pretense of protesting the war Pel ton's peanuts, the State Department or how Harry Hillman combed his hair. It was not even commentary on the artistic quality of the piano playing. It was just good clean fun. And Bill hung in there as he always did beating it out with two adequate hands and a good left foot

The Bulletin says of the March 1 Inauguration of John G. Kemeny, about which this periodical may well have informed you by now, . . All of the ingredients came together to make it warm and affectionate, sentimental and serious, historic yet informal." It must have been just that for dis- patches from Cotty Larmon and Nick Sandoe expressed the very same sentiments with considerable emphasis and eloquence. Sandoe reported seeing no other '19ers except John McCrillis and Bob and Anne Lewis. We'd be willing to bet there were several others but who, with tears in his eyes, could see much through such a haze of wine women and song? The Bulletin which, incidentally, was started by our own Mr. Larmon some fifty odd years ago, said that among others especially introduced was Mrs Kemeny, the president's mother. This reminded us that we had met her two or three years ago in Roanoke Rapids, an oasis on the long trek between the north and the south. It was not a formal introduction by Beacon Hill standards, but more what the traveler comes to know as license plate acceptance. As we emerged from our motel, Mary following with the luggage, a very attractive young woman who was readying a get-away in the next car enquired, "Where do you live in New Hampshire?" We answered Henniker and watched the bewilderment spread across her face. "Well, do you know where Hanover is?" she asked. We admitted we did and with the reluctance innate in every Dartmouth man announced that we went there to college. She told us that her son John Kemeny taught there. Unfortunately, we were forced to confess that while we knew much of him, we had never met him. One incident at this impressive changing of the guard bespoke a radical change in policy which we did not like. A dog, obviously a long-standing member of the Dartmouth community, and who quite possibly has attended every class John Kemeny ever held, was unceremoniously ejected. We liked it better when there was a dog in every Dartmouth dish of tea.

From Claire Foster Bresnahan, Tom's widow, "To the Class of 1919. Tom would have been very proud to know that a book will rest on the library shelves in his memory from 'the' class. Thank you so much." And among other things in a lovely note from Herb Fleming's widow, Sally, "Nothing gave Herb more pleasure than our '19 reunions, fall weekends and football games where we had such delightful visits and talks with dear friends of many years." And from good old George Rand a hatful of intelligences: a postcard from Jane and SanTreat from San Diego, "... we are both fine and our stay out here has done Jane lots of good — especially getting away from this past winter.... Spent two days in Palm Springs with Ax Warden whom I had not seen since the spring of '17." George announces that Lou and Harriet Munro, Jockand Edna Murray, and the Ev Moxons are all in Boca Raton.... Stu and Jane Russell are coming any minute but are due back in Hanover in early April and a postcard from St. Croix pictures the Queen's Quarter where they are staying briefly. Lastly a communication states that he is doing some work on the Third Century Fund in Palm Beach County and that he and Marion will probably make it to Hanover about July 1. Cottyand Kitty Larmon are off again on their annual inspection of the world. Their itinerary this time is Boston, London, Rome, Dubrovnik, Kotor, Sveti Stefan, Budva, Rijeka, these last five, we believe, on the south coast of Yugoslavia, and then to Trieste. Here they set sail for the new world on a steamer which will take only a few days less than Columbus needed. After stops at ten wonderful sounding ports and plenty of time to sit watching the bikini clad volley ball players, they pull into 1 Sutton Place (brother Sig's diggings)... then off to Hanover just in time to greet the Davises.

And last but not least, last month's item on the Martin Center at Stonehill College and Spider's contributions of family books reminds us of an incident. A year or so ago when Spider and Bea were at our house, Spider said he wished to go over to Hopkinton and see Guy Cogswell. When we got there he pulled from his pocket a small, lavishly bound book and said, "Guy, in going through Joe's library, I came upon this volume which has your name on its flyleaf. Now either you gave this to Joe or . . At this point Guy interrupted with, "or you stole it from me." The volume was "Continental Poets" or some such un-Cogs-well-like title. "You know all these years I've been wondering whatever became of that," said Guy.

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