1961
This month we are pleased to begin by presenting the second of two parts from a long and interesting letter by Bob Lieblich. The first part dealt with Bob's travels since leaving Hanover. This second part presents his impressions of Dartmouth as an undergraduate and through the years as an alumnus.
"How about a few reflections from one of the least reflective of your classmates? After all, one can't write the class 'secretary for the first time in more than 14 years without a bit of philosophizing.
"I left Dartmouth after two years because I didn't like the place all that much. In the years since I have adopted the protective quip that Dartmouth is a top-notch junior college. And I'll have to say this for it: when we were there it was. At Berkeley [where Bob went after Dartmouth] the sections of the big classes were taught and graded by teaching assistants, who even then were trying to raise beards so they didn't look as callow as the undergrads, whose elders they might be by three or four years. At Dartmouth professors (maybe only assistant profs, but at least the word appeared in their titie) taught the sections, and there was an intimacy with the real faculty that no freshman or sophomore at Berkeley ever experienced. I'd like to think the same thing is still true now. "But to return to the main point: I was still only 18, almost 19, when I left after two years at Dartmouth. I came to the school from Jefferson High School in San Antonio, Texas, whose sophistication can be measured by the fact half of my teachers had never heard of the college I was going to attend.
"I turned 17 while on the freshman hike. (We had a leader who could belch longer and louder than any other person I had ever encountered.) I had the emotional and intellectual maturity of the average tenth grader in a New York City High school, and I just didn't catch up fast enough. Dartmouth was too damn much of a goldfish bowl, and I was one of the very smallest fish. So I transferred to Berkeley, where one could be as callow as he wanted, and I grew up there, essentially unnoticed. Well, I might say with more accuracy I grew up in the Navy as a 20 year-old ensign, but that's another story.
"It took a few years for me to realize that Dartmouth wasn't to blame for my maladaptation, and a few more years passed before the fond memories outweighed the recollections of adolescent bitterness. I've now made peace with the place to the point of sending a contribution to the Alumni Fund and paying my class dues. I even cheered some of the victorious football teams and bewailed the fortunes of the Big Green in other sports where things went less well. In a few more years I might even start to care whether ROTC comes back or the Indian symbol is reinstated - but not just yet.
"I noticed in the Undergraduate Chair column for June that the Class of 1975 is the last to have entered when Dartmouth was still all male. You may recall that we hold the decidedly less significant distinction of being the last class to enter on the old semester system, back when Winter Carnival came at semester break and seemed to last for two weeks (well, it certainly did run for several days). Boston was four hours away by car and the B & M still ran through White River Junction. The Hopkins Center was still a selling point for alumni contributions, and the intersection of Main and Wheelock.had.no traffic light, only a couple of forlorn and frequently ignored stop signs. I've never been back in 16 years, and I'm beginning to wonder whether I can ever really make peace with Dartmouth until I venture once more to Hanover and confront her head on. But then the Hanover I have retained in my memories all these years will have to accept the. overlay of 16 years of changes, and I may never recover. Now that the memories are becoming fond, I don't know whether I dare disturb them with such a jolt.
"I'd like to mention all the Dartmouth alums I see all the time, but I really have almost no contact with anyone from Dartmouth, and I can't recall seeing anyone from our Class since I last ran into Dave Small at a cocktail party around 1971. (He left within a month after matriculation and subsequently wound up at Harvard Law like I did.) I think it would be most felicitous to strike up the acquaintance of a classmate again, but I haven't been able to bring myself to go to alumni affairs, and that about does it if you're looking for a systematic way to see fellow 1961s.
"But I have reached the point of saying that I'm glad I went to Dartmouth and pleased to be able to claim the affiliation, even if my assorted degrees came from other institutions. I miss the old school more each year, and I know that I will eventually find occasion to take the family to Hanover and show them the window in Gile through which a lucky snowball flew one day to break my ceramic beer mug and deprive me of a souvenir of the school. I kept my Dartmouth jacket and wore it with perverse pride until it died of old age a few years ago."
Bob, we heartily thank you for taking the time to write us a long letter sharing with us your feelings and experiences through the years. We especially appreciate your candid thoughts about the Dartmouth Fellowship. I'm sure many of our classmates have had mixed feelings about the College through the years. We hope many of them will follow your fine example and write down their observations to be shared with the Class in this column.
Secretary, 14 Glen Road Winchester, Mass. 01890
Treasurer, 105 Crosby Hanover, N.H. 03755
