1940
Just 40 years ago last month, the Class of '40 converged on the Hanover Plain, 649 strong, to begin to write its collective story in the long history of Dartmouth.
Although our class was a shade smaller than our predecessors', the 78 alumni sons among us set a record in that category, topping the Class of '38 by two. In turn, as a class we've topped our own figure by slightly more than 50 per cent to date in the numbers of sons and daughters '4O has sent to Dartmouth.
Our vanguard 40 years ago consisted of eight men — Whit Miller, Joe Dunford, Bill Holman, John Preiss, John English and Bob Castle, and the late Cal Bowie, who was to give his life in World War II, and Steve Jewett, whose whole life was witness to the values a man can realize heeding the "call of the wild." They probably didn't know then that they were giving shape to what has become a major Dartmouth tradition. When they hiked Moosilauke, they were participating in only the second pre-matriculation freshman trip. In contrast, this year the Dartmouth Outing Club enabled 672 freshmen volunteers, or two-thirds of the Class of 1980, to experience three days on trails all over the White Mountains, traversing collectively a distance equivalent to the miles around this old globe at the latitude of Hanover. And that's a statistic that testifies there's still plenty of granite in the newest Dartmouth generation.
A review of The Dartmouth of September 1936 recalls that tuition then was $425 for the year, up $25 from the year before in only the first increase in a decade, compared to the current cost of $4,230 for a three-term year, reminding us forcibly of the ten-fold inflation since our matriculation four decades ago.
As we poured into Hanover, Green Key tried to help us find our way into our new home, but there soon were enough other upper-classmen around to make us uncomfortably aware of our peon status as freshmen — until, that is, the football rush. And in that test of class manhood, we beat the class of '39 by a score of 3-1 in the space of ten minutes, suffering only minor bruises and contusions. That victory relieved us of the stigma of required beanies, enforced as a mark of the helot. From then on, we wore them when and because we wanted to as badges of honor and in pride of class.
The '39ers took some revenge when we had to run through their gauntlet the diagonal length of the Green, gleefully sweeping us through with their belts, which hurt less than one would have imagined.
In its reports on those days, The Dartmouth claimed we lost the rush on the Nugget, thanks to the intercession of Dean Neidlinger, and maybe we did, though memory, tricky instrument that it is, keeps insisting we prevailed in the end after a near standoff. In any event, Palaeopitus had had good reason to know that '40, like Mack the Knife, was "in town," a force to be reckoned with.
Although World War II later emerged a hinge point, the year 1936-37 was hailed then as a year of significant change at Dartmouth. The health service was inaugurated that fall with the physicals we took at Dick's House, and, in the realm of the social sciences, Dartmouth became a leader, introducing a then new interdisciplinary approach to the study of contemporary problems. In his convocation to us, President Hopkins added in his reference to this academic innovation that "henceforth it will not be possible for a man to go out holding a Dartmouth degree and know nothing whatsoever about the government of his country."
The College had been concerned then, as now, with the quality of student life, and as a result of a two-year study had remodeled and enlarged Freshman Commons, and Mrs. Elizabeth Hayward, of fond memory to many, started her reign there with us. Meanwhile plans were approved for construction the next year of Thayer Hall to provide upper classes with dining facilities that spelled the end of the famed — and infamous - eating clubs.
And in his convocation remarks, President Hopkins underlined his concern for the character of student life by serving notice on fraternities that they could continue at Dartmouth as national affiliations only if they each recognized the "unique character of Dartmouth" and permitted locals to adapt as necessary to the policies of the College.
While Dartmouth now takes special pride in the arts offered each year at the Hopkins Center, the Class of 1940 was scarcely a culturally deprived class. That year, the Dartmouth Concert Series featured at Webster Hall the Boston Symphony Orchestra conducted by Serge Koussevitsky, the great contralto Marion Anderson, the Don Cossack Choir, and pianist Josef Hoffman.
Dave Smith '39, right, seen here with Prince Bertil, has found his first few months as U.S.Ambassador to Sweden extraordinarily busy, with an official visit from Secretary Kissinger, the King's wedding, and the reopening of the Goteborg consulate.
Secretary, 4 Parkhurst Hall Hanover, N.H. 03755
Treasurer, Apt. 5-C 6 Whittier Place Boston, Mass. 02114
