1944
THIRTY-FIFTH REUNION
One heard it said on many a street corner that our 35th reunion was the best yet and this corner can only concur and shout "Bravo."
By what criteria? Who knows. It was just a damn fine reunion, that's all. It was mellow and relaxed and friendly. Few of us are in a frenzy anymore. At 58, or thereabouts, most of us have caught our brass rings or at least had a good swipe at them. Retirement is not so very far away. Easy does it.
And easy it was. We talked and listened, ate and drank, ran and rested, lobbed and loafed. Set records, too. There were 122 of us on hand, which tied 1942's record for the most alumni at a 35th reunion; and we set a record for the most people at a 35th reunion with a body count of 244.
Not very many kids, of course; most are past that bit. I doubt whether there was a nose wiped the whole weekend. Unless it was among those youngsters in '45 or '46 with whom we shared reunion. Incidentally, there were 102 '45s and 80 '46s on hand.
Blow-by-blow, things went something like this:
Some thirty be-ribboned fellows from all three classes came into town a day early as part of a first-ever reunion of three World War II Dartmouth Units: Navy Air Corps, Army Air Force, and the 10th Mountain Division. We met in the Inn's Tavern Room to reminisce, quaff a few, eat well, see some slides, and listen to a couple of talks. As one attendee put it: "It was a most pleasant evening and nowhere near as full of untruths as one might guess." I had a list of '44s in attendance, but my stupid goldfish chewed it up. Nonetheless, I think I remember these faces: Eric Barradale, Ham Bates,Hardwick Caldwell, Ja Densmore, SwampyMarsh, Bill McElnea, Bob McLaughry, JackStephenson, and self.
Monday morning, June 9, dawned bright and bluey-eyed and Dave Eckels was at the registration desk hale and hearty-eyed. Sensible hats and large name tags for one and all, plus tote bags for the ladies. J. Press would have been pleased.
Med School, Tuck, and Thayer each put on a lunch for their faithful, and that was followed by a panel on "Student Life in the Decade of the '80s," and a bus tour of the Dartmouth- Hanover area for those who couldn't remember where Tanzi's, Fletcher's, or the Hotel Coolidge used to be.
Lord and Gile dorms were '44 domiciles, with some spillage into the Hanover Inn (a recent basement fire put Streeter out of commission), and our tent graced the Streeter lawn. As they have since the turn of the century, the suds therein came via our friendly Budweiser man, Frank Parker, and the tap was on tap for the Monday afternoon/evening cocktail hour from 5:00 to 6:30.
To show how much it loves us all, the College invited reunioners from all classes to dinner Monday evening an intimate little gathering of a thousand or so in Thompson Arena. (That's the new ice hockey emporium in case any of you haven't seen a game since Riley,Rondeau, and Harrison. Incidentally, of that trio only Dick Rondeau made it to reunion and all he had to do was roller skate over from Dallas.)
After dinner it was back to the tent for a late libation and a bit of dancing. And you had to dance to keep the tootsies warm; it was somewhere around three below zero in Hanover that evening.
Next morning, at 0800 would you believe, four of the '44 four-minute-milers BenJones, Dave Judson, Bill Orr, and Hier showed their heels and hindquarters to the youngsters of '45 and '46 in a special 2.6 mile run up Tuck Drive, around Occom Pond, the hospital, the green, and back down to Tuck. Winning time was 16 minutes 15 seconds, only 15 minutes off the world record.
The 9:00-10:15 class meeting, held in the new Collis Student Center (formerly Freshman Commons; butter stains on the ceiling long painted over) and under the gavel of prexy Ezz Hale, was a model of Roberts Rules and weighty decisions. There was, for example, a secretary's" repoct, a class project report, a reunion report, and a president's report and how could you do any better than that? There were also cries of "Author! Composer!" for Tom Miner, our reunion chairman, and never were accolades more deserved.
There was a new slate of officers, too, except that most of the old treads were pressed back, into duty. Ben Jones was elected new president for the next four years, and Twitch Miller will take over the newsletter from Merle Hagen later this year, but, like it or not, you get Bill Craig, Dick Mayberry, John Berry, and Hier for another 48 months.
Then came an enlightening question-and- answer period in Hopkins Center with President John Kemeny, after which we adjourned to a quietly moving and lovely memorial service in Rollins Chapel. Again, it involved all three classes. Our Clint Gardner had to cancel at the last moment, so that Fred Berthold '45 and Don Fitzsimmons '46 officiated. The list of our deceased classmates is sobering to say the least 76 are no longer with us. Twenty-three died in World War II, 27 in the past decade.
It was only a hop and a skip from Rollins to the Bema, where we had our class picnic (and where we would have held our graduation had we ever had a graduation ceremony) and gorged on pheasant under glass and crepe suzettes (well, not really).
The best was saved till last. Our class banquet was switched into Thayer Dining Hall because of the icy conditions at the DOC House, and it was a comfortable move in all respects. The food was outstanding, the program ausgezeichnet, and the atmosphere extraordinaire. Merle Hagen was a super emcee and he had great fun introducing a musical skit by a bunch of the girls Pat Hale, PriscillaHaffenreffer, Barbara Mayberry, and BarbaraMacGregor and a side-splitter by a bunch of the boys Russ Burdge, Bruce Dean, JohnCallow, and Dave Patterson.
The first of the innovative Class of 1944 Awards capped the program, and Ezz Hale read citations to the three blushing acceptees John Berry, Clark MacGregor, and LeonardRieser. Citation texts will appear in subsequent newsletters.
Finally, from Thayer to Alumni Hall, from stuffing cheeks to cheek-to-cheek: the Glenn Miller Band. It was just splendid, that's all you can say. Nice, nostalgic, noisy; soft, sentimentla, smooth. The place was packed to the rafters and then some, yet everyone got in a lick and listened and enjoyed. Dance winners were tough to choose, but Bill Orr, Russ Burdge, and Twitch Miller all danced the spots off the floor.
Wednesday morning there was brunch, a panel (George Springsteen was our man at the mike), and goodbyes. Until our 40th, just four years away. 1984. Plans are already underway. That's it. Blessings.
311 McNutt Hall Hanover, N.H. 03755
