1921

What price soberness? On a post card sent to Tuck School, Cliff Corbet reported that he had been "soused" daily on a 21-day Grand Canyon raft trip. Full of zealous editing or unable to read handwriting, the Tuck magazine exculpated Cliff as being only "doused." On the same raft topsyturving in Lava Rapid was his son Barry. With the raft on top, Cliff houdinied out handily by reason of "his vast experience as an underachiever." Barry should ring a bell. In early years as a starter in Alaska he climbed Mt. McKinley, 20,320 feet high. At only 6,288, our New Hampshire Mt. Washington is considered damnably formidable on occasions. With an American team, in 1963 Barry climbed Mt. Everest, which juts up above Nepal-Tiber 29,028 feet. Later with John Evans he made headlines on the first ascent of Tyree in Antarctica. Because it is shudderingly cold at 16,290 feet, you had better not challenge it if you are a summer week-end golfer who rides in a car protected by an awning. Although confined to a wheelchair by a helicopter accident in 1968, Barry gets around. The source of all this information is the man who boasts defiantly of being "the world's lousiest correspondent."

In 1969 Dick Hart retired as senior vice president and director of the Drovers National Bank of Chicago, and in 1970 he and Ellen moved into their new Sarasota home bordering on the Forest Lakes Country Club golf course. Since then they have had happy years working for the Methodist Church, enjoying country club, yacht club, and cocktail circuits, and attending Dartmouth and Ivy club meetings. Earlier they flew and cruised to many foreign lands and toured the U.S. and Canada. Their principal interests in the U.S. have been Civil War battlefields, easier to locate than good fishing spots in Canada, where Dick's guide was fond of saying, "You should have been here tomorrow." Dick plays golf four or five times a week and enjoys bowling on the green at a neighbor's house. Among his prized possessions are two Boy Scout Oscars awarded him for leading successful finance campaigns in the Chicago area. He now has plenty of time after The WallStreet Journal to read about the Civil War, W.W. I, and W.W. II.

One may not say that Joe Walker has forgotten his New England heritage just because he has left his summer home in Fairhaven and moved back to New Smyrna Beach, his winter home. His father, John Walker '91, and Joe were both born in Newmarket, N.H., and Joe married Mildred there in 1925. High up in Goodyear Tire and Rubber, Joe spent many years in New Bedford and Fairhaven, and his son William John prepared at Fairhaven High for the University of New Hampshire.

Born in Cedar Rapids and long a powerful bank president there, Van Vechten Shaffer confesses to a passion for maple syrup, and he writes to a 1921 man for advice about a reliable merchant. Tacitly he admits that Vermont and New Hampshire in one respect may be superior to lowa.

And New England calls up Dave Bowen and his decision to hold on to 100 acres in Norwich, Vt., with a lovely view and a lovely gain in taxes, over 600 per cent. He has sold off three-fourths of his Lebanon holdings, made a good profit, and paid out much of it in taxes.

Vince and Helen O'Holloran O'Reilly temporarily left flat Washington for elevated Washington and a visit with six grandchildren. A highway led them through the Gifford Pinchot National Forest with a view of whitecapped Mt. Rainier. The 14,410-foot altitude and slippery slopes persuaded them against a quick climb in favor of a flat postcard.

With sensational visual and auditory acuity, Ralph and Caroline Steiner make significant artistic contributions to Vermont and New Hampshire. Caroline shows lovely slides of cathedrals (Rheims, Vezelay, and Einiedeln), their landscapes, and French and Swiss men and women. Her commentary is witty and erudite, and the orchestral and vocal music ravishing. Her second film, "God In New England," concentrates on old churches, characters often depicted by Robert Frost, and fields, streams, and cemeteries in various seasons. Ralph lectures before school and college audiences and shows a nine-minute film of festooning and billowing plumes of water, called "Glory-Glory," over and over, each time with different music ranging from Mozart on the flute and Couperin on the harpsichord to jazz and electronic music. Lectures is hardly the right word for Ralph, who before and after asks devilishly clever questions about what happens to seeing and hearing when personal tastes, often inexplicable, are involved. The answers he gets are astoundingly honest and personal.

Secretary, Box 925 Hanover, N.H. 03755

Treasurer, Lucia Lane, Rockport, Mass. 01966