Winter(?) Carnival
I reverently believe that the maker whomade us all makes everything in NewEngland but the weather. I don't know whomakes that, but I think it must be raw apprentices in the weather clerk's factory whoexperiment and learn how in New England.
Mark Twain
Although no one seems to know for sure, chances are that no snow by mid-February even in mercurial New England must be some kind of record. Back in late January, while climatologists fretted over the undivinable jet stream, students began to worry about a snowless Winter Carnival. As Carnival neared and exhortations to "pray for snow" circulated, some dauntless spirits took nature into their own hands and arranged to make snow in the center of the Green they needed a mound large enough to sculpt an 18-foot-high ski jump (scaled down by one half from the original plan) to celebrate this year's Carnival theme: "The 1980 Dartmouth Games Winter Takes All."
The Carnival Council had obtained donations of snowmaking equipment, diesel fuel, a firetruck to pump water, and the operators to run the machines, but in an era of fuel shortages and noise pollution, securing permission to go ahead with the contingency plan had the Council trying to find its way through an administrative labyrinth. They conferred with Dean of the College Ralph Manuel '58, Provost Leonard Rieser '44, the Hanover selectmen, and finally President Kemeny, who decided that the would-be sculptors' enthusiasm and ingenuity outweighed the main objections to making snow the fuel consumed and the noise produced by the machines. (Someone took decibel readings and determined that the noise level at Parkhurst Hall, Dartmouth Hall, and the Hanover Inn would be negligible.)
For 36 hours the engines produced a steady drone and a growing pile of snow, until finally there was enough snow to fashion the center-of-Green ski jump (complete with skier about to leap and adorned by interlocking Olympic circles) and enough snow to spare to get the real ski jump on the golf course ready for Saturday's competition. A fleet of trucks brought more snow from Post Pond in Lyme to construct a three-kilometer ribbon across Occom Pond and the golf course for the cross-country ski races.
As usual, a number of Dartmouth students left Hanover while large out-of- town crowds arrived, despite letters sent to other New England colleges by the Dean of Students' Office and the Interfraternity Council urging uninvited visitors to stay away. The three days of festivities came to an end when Saturday night sounds of shouting students and speeding cars gave way to Sunday morning peace and quiet.
Someone out walking Sunday morning might have noticed the snow sculpture partially destroyed, the College flag stolen, and the library full of students sipping steaming cups of coffee. The air outside felt clean and cold, the skies looked clear and sunny. The real snow, when it finally arrived, came a week too late. What there was of it melted too soon.
Art imitates life: the lump of snow forthe center-of-campus statue provided theonly skiing around Hanover. The statueitself loomed over a Green of brown turf.
Art imitates life: the lump of snow forthe center-of-campus statue provided theonly skiing around Hanover. The statueitself loomed over a Green of brown turf.
