1938

Having a feast or a famine can be a source of frustration in a number of activities watching 1980 Dartmouth football and writing '38 class .notes being two.

A week ago now (as these notes are being produced, the end of September) things looked awfully good for the Big Green varsity eleven. Pennsylvania had been summarily dispatched, 40-7, and a feast of optimism was in order. Today, ten days later, after the misfortune vs. UNH, if there> isn't a famine of favorable football news there sure as heck isn't a feast of good news, that's for sure.

Similarly, sort of, in the realm of class news accumulation, a month ago, for the October issue, there was a veritable bonanza of information from the summer months more, perhaps, than could be included in the '3B space allowed class notes. But your secretary used up all that backlog a month ago in profligate fashion. In the interests of economy, I believe the College has reduced its clipping service reliance; classmates have become increasingly close-mouthed, to me anyway; I share old James Forsyte's morose observation, "Nobody tells me anything."

Because of the inevitable time lag between writing and reading, there are a lot of things that haven't happened yet, that will have happened quite a while ago by the time you read these notes. Numero uno in this category is '38's feisty fall frolic at Bonnie Oaks, Harvard game weekend, October 17-19. President Clark Barrett spent a lot of time and effort organizing this mini-reunion for us, and Dan Marshall, with publicity in The Pace Setter, and the Bob Rosses and the Phil Leaches, with hospitality before and after the game, have contributed importantly. Anne and I are sorry we won't be able to be there; but I hope, a) that many and many of you did attend, and b) that some of you will have sent snapshots to Dan and names and numbers of all the players to him or to me, for inclusion in future class notes.

Two others who won't be there (because even they can't be two places at once) are Gil and Fran Tanis, who were scheduled to be climbing Cheops and/or cavorting on camels about the time of the Harvard game weekend. It sounded as if it were going to be a wonderful safari. With further reference to late September Dartmouth athletic activities, the soccer varsity made out better than the football team, beating Middlebury 1-0 in a hard-fought game. Your secretary was there because your secretary's older son, who teaches at Middlebury, got married there that weekend.

The September Magazine arrived yesterday, complete with an extensive and, I thought, wellresearched and fair account of the rhubarb over the election of John Steel to the Board of Trustees, also referred to in The Bulletin for September. In my advancing, and declining, years, I am sorry that this whole thing came up; I'm sorry, for Dartmouth, that so many alumni feel so acerbic, as evidenced by most of the letters to the editor. (The only one of the September letters that made me feel good was the one from James C. Parkes '57, on page 14.)

Feast or famine. Next month let's have it be feast-time, of good news from the gridiron, and colorful data and information from and about our amazing classmates'.

Box 187 Damariscotta, Maine 04543