1963

This month we are going to deal with one (or possibly more) of the class's Great Sports Legends. I called Elliot Gerson on the pretext of confirming his elevation to the rank of partner in Fox, Rothschild, O'Brien and Frankel, a Philadelphia law firm for whom Elliot specializes in corporate securities. But what I really wanted to know was whether Elliot had, in fact, faked losing one of his contact lenses during a varsity basketball game our sophomore year.

Elliot, many of you may recall, had been trapped against the backcourt line by two (or perhaps three) over-eager defenders when suddenly he clapped his hand over his eye and exclaimed, "It's gone!" The referee whistled a time-out and for the next ten minutes or so members of both teams were down on their hands and knees looking for his left contact lens, but they never found it. I was in the press row that night covering the game for The Dartmouth, and the WDCR commentator leaned over to me conspiratorially and confided the information that "Gerson doesn't wear contacts."

I've believed that for years, and thought it was one of the great examples of presence of mind I had ever witnessed in an athletic contest. But I had never checked it out. Now I have, and am sadder for it. Gerson, while claiming not to remember the exact episode I related, says that he did wear contacts, and that there were several occasions when one popped out during a game.

Ah well. I guess I should never have asked. Anyway, Elliot, wife Francis, and two daughters are happily ensconced in a Center City townhouse. Francis, moreover, just became a lawyer herself, graduating last spring from the University of Pennsylvania's law school. She's now a clerk for one of the justices on the Pennsylvania Supreme Court. Of his daughters, ages 13 and 11, Elliot comments that "neither one can catch or throw."

The Gersons get together in the summer with Gerry Ashworth's family, which includes two sons, in Maine. Elliot says that as far as he knows, Gerry, who is in the scrap-metal business in Boston with his father-in-law, never got caught up in the running craze. The class's lone Olympic gold medal winner in track "skis when it snows," says Elliot, but is not a jogger.

The two families also visited Hanover together a year or so ago and stopped by the Phi Delt house. What did the kids think of it all? Elliot says one of the Ashworth boys volunteered as they were leaving the fraternity, "I thought you had to be smart to get in here. These guys are all nuts."

Ah, well, the more things change

Moving right along, in other developments around the world, Bob Nassau has been appointed senior vice president for marketing and corporate planning at J. I. Case, a subsidiary of Tenneco Co. located in Racine, Wise. Case is a maker of agricultural and construction equipment. Before joining Case, Bob had been general manager of Ford Tractor's intercontinental operations, and had been with Ford for 16 years.

Your secretary also needs to apologize for his fumble-eyed proof-reading of October's column. As the result of a "dropped line" of type, the names of three classmates who were present and accounted for at Dave Schaefer's wedding were omitted or given incompletely. The three were: Steve Scott, Bill Subin, and Barry Blackwell. Dave is no doubt going to roast me for that in his next newsletter.

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