1941

This is the month when the deadline trap really frustrates a hard-working class secretary. By the time you read this, in late November, Dartmouth's football season will be over, or nearly so. Dozens of classmates will have met and visited at stadiums up and down the East Coast. A 1941 contingent will have gathered at Bonnie Oaks for a mini-reunion. A class meeting will have been convened and adjourned.

But I can't report to you on any of that because today is only September 29 and none of it has happened yet.

The postcards returned to Dan Provost in response to his mailing about the Harvard weekend show about 15 couples already signed up for that affair, with another half dozen or so expecting to hit Hanover for the game only.

Several of those who sent regrets were planning to make other games. If you went to Princeton, for instance, you may have run into Malcolm Scott, while Frank Simpson, Sue Hall, Felix Lilienthal, and Dave Chittim were among those who were hoping to be in Hanover for the Yale fracas. Phil and ShirleyHall were heading for the William and Mary game and Big Green bash in Williamsburg, and Jack and Penny Waring were thinking of driving up from North Carolina for that one, too.

And thanks to messages on several other cards, I can tell you what a number of'41s Is were expecting to be up to on October 15.

George Baine planned to be engaging in his annual fall rite of fishing the Carolina Outer Banks.

The Lew Johnstones planned to be at home in Florida bemoaning the fact that Beanie is locked into jury duty all month.

Then there were those who around the girdled earth would roam. If all went well, the Bill Clarks were in China, the Vic Schneiders were in Egypt, and Sally Frechette was off on an Alumni College Abroad trip. (She didn't say where and I don't recall the schedule maybe that's Egypt, too.)

Ez Crowley was due in Denver on a business trip, Dick and Polly Hill in Atlanta for an American Bankers Association function, and Slip Rainie in Montreal for a medical meeting.

One piece of disquieting news surfaced. Adrian Bouchard, college photographer for so many years and our only remaining adopted '41, wasn't going to make the mini-reunion because, Norma wrote from Hanover: "Adrian is very ill, which is why he hasn't been able to participate for some time now." We all wish them both the best.

Finally, Dannie got back scores of cards with a hello or a sorry or a let-me-know-what-happens on them. If there were space, I'd list everybody, but since there isn't, here's a couple of samples. "Bonnie Oaks and Bozeman are just too far apart," wrote Bob Sencer from that Montana metropolis. And from Salisbury, N.C., Hank Palmer noted wistfully, "Maybe one of these years I'll retire and start doing things like this."

And now we can get back to real time and things that have verifiably happened. Since two football games have already been played at this point, I called Bonnie Oaks and found Jordan and Marge Gotshall established there as usual for their season of viewing autumn leaves and football games. Gotch says that they encountered only Don and Jane Hanks in the stands at the Penn game, and in Worcester for the Holy Cross unpleasantness, their co-witnesses were Bob Thomas, down from Maine, and Carl Krogh, over from Deerfield.

The letter that arrived recently from John Bowers was, by his own admission, the first time he's checked in since graduation, but he picked a newsworthy occasion to break his fast. John retired in June from his post as advertising director on Ford's corporate marketing staff. What John's letter didn't mention was that he's ending a 25-year career at Ford, during which he was responsible for things ranging from promoting the original Mustang to putting Bill Cosby on the tube to tell us that "Ford wants to be your car company," and during which he rose to be one of the top ad executives in the auto industry. What his letter did say is as follows:

"I'm doing some consulting occasional trip to New York and a few days a month here in the Detroit area. Nancy and I plan to move to northern Michigan in May. We're building a home on Walloon Lake. Both of us are fine. Daughter Lisa and husband and new daughter are in Palo Alto, which gets us to California once in a while. Son Peter is with J. Walter Thompson in Chicago.

"It's been our loss that we haven't been able to make '41 affairs in recent years. There always seemed to be something happening and then the distance to Hanover. We'll let you know when we're settled, so you can help us spread the welcome mat for any '41s who may be passing through."

Box 331 Essex, Conn. 06426