1944

It's Christmas time, the crowd is flowing, Troops en masse coming and going. The hall is lit, the candles burning, Rally round with all those yearning For a wing-ding, loud and clear. Here they are, from far and near. Now there's a fellow worth a trifle, The likes, indeed, of L. Don Pfeifle. And, ah, Fitzgerald, call him Ed, And our man Daley, "Hi there, Fred." A dog's best friend, sun or snowin', There's AKC's Hamilton Rowan. Johnny Peacock, standing tall, Right beside him, Richard Paul. There's precision, watch him steply, Get in line with Wemo Epply. Behold a form that's surely got The lanky likeness of Lou Schott. Here in a Buick is Leopold, Warren, Damning imports and all things foreign. Through the throng, ever nearer, Another car man, Jack F. Shearer. Don't be a fly there on the wall, Come down and talk to doc Bill Stahl. Entrepeneur, that's Newpie Browning, With him around, there's no slow-downing Another log, please, on the fire, Let's warm our toes with Jack Maguire. Time has taken not a toll LTpon the features of Dick Sholl. And, of course, there's nothing nicer Than the grin of Shelden Spicer. Don't be shy, leave the corner, Shake the hand of Stephen Horner. Gather in around the tables, Save a chair for Paul S. Staples. Berries and bows, figs and twigs, For Bobbie Myers and Jimmie Briggs. Share the ruffles, pass the frills, Have a ball with Ed C. Hills. Watch the smog, check the environs, No acid rain brought by Bill Hirons. Oops, no dozing, stay alert, On your toes for George H. Pert. Those two fellows can amuse, Johnny D. and Snookie Hughes. In the pear tree, spare the cartridge, It's friend the Bird, name of Partridge. Lots of greens, cook up the fronds, Salads galore with Howie Johns. On the dance floor, slip and slide, A Gelaendesprung with Henry Hyde. Check the talent, watch the finesse Under the mistle with Jack Jenness. Form a line there, stop the clocks, Parlez a while with the Jimmie Lockes. They're right here, they're not missin', Connecticut's Liz and Joe Vancisin. The cummerbund, the handsome spats, They grace the form of Robert Kaatz. Rosy smiles for the many Smiths, No noes nor ands nor buts nor ifs. What do you know, like as not, No one else but Houghton Trott. Yells and cheers, hip-hip hoorays For both the Don and Philip Mays. Make rafters ring where e'er you are, Hear it for Carol and Stanley Barr. Hey, there, Ostbergs, Proc and Oz, The best to you that ever was. Name your poison, drink your pleasure, Stand in line with Johnny Lesher. To Puchners, Penberthys, and other Phils Chansons, please, and larks and trills. Seek them out, find their niche, Whoopee the Millers, Bob and Twitch. The HafFenreffers, Jack and Prise, Came down the chimney like Kringle, Kris. Toss a laugh, don't be high-strung, An arm around the doctor Nystrom. There's a fellow who can't be sullen, The sprightly spirit of Jay McMullen. No, it's not a bas relief, In the flesh it's Bob O'Keefe. Just behind him, if you please, The welcome sight of Roland Pease. And welcome, too, those three glad-handers, Arnie, Dave and John R. Sanders. Ring-a-ling, there's the phone, The happy voice of Miles E. Krohn. Easy to see, time doesn't ravage The looks and likes of doc Lou Savage. It's frosty out, douse the sprinklers, We can't be icing up the Winklers. Don't you dare say, oh to heck with A fellow nice as John L. Beckwith. Catch that grin, nothing sadly About the sight of our Dick Bradley. Who's the one in the fancy vest, Horace Blood or Henry Best?

Who, indeed! The light is fading The year's at end, so's masquerading. Goodbye to this year's joys and stressings, Happy days to all. That's it. Blessings.

The week before their October 23 wedding, 1944 class secretary Fritz Hier and his then-wife-to-beAnne M.iller mingled with classmates at a variety of Homecoming Weekend festivities.

304 Parkhurst Hall Hanover, N.H. 03755