1945

November first, Indian summer in New Hampshire, have just returned from the 1945 mini-reunion in Hanover, and . . . hope you will have had a most Merry Christmas. (And if you know a better way to bridge the lead-time gap, please do clue me.)

There were 21 in attendance at the meeting of the executive committee, including all of your class officers. Vic Smith took the honors for coming the longest distance from Cincinnati although most likely he just slipped down from Haverhill, N.H., where he and Vesta maintain a summer and future retirement home.

Vic brought along an article from the American Airlines magazine recording the trials and tribulations of planning and constructing the new 29-story skyscraper at 85 Broad Street in lower Manhattan. The developer of this project, which is now the world headquarters for the partnership of Goldman, Sachs, and Company, was Philip M. Shannon, executive vice president of the real estate development firm of Galbreath-Ruffin Corporation. One of the many obstacles to be overcome was the understandable hesitation of the Landmarks Preservation Committee. To accomplish this the building was designed to harmonize aesthetically with existing structures, including historic Fraunces Tavern. Additionally, there was an archaeological search of the site which turned up many valuable artifacts and prompted Phil to remark: "This is the first site I have ever developed where the first dirt was turned with a spoon." Vic pleaded with me not to be commercial and credit Turner Construction Company with involvement in the project. So I won't. Okay?

The executive committee meeting was most productive, particularly in the area of plans for our 40th, to be known as our 20/20 reunion and to be headed by the experienced team of Steve Hull and Bob Paulson. Other highlights of the weekend included a report that dynamite had been hidden in the bonfire. From the 1945 vantage point in the Faculty Lounge of the Hop, we watched as two logging machines, looking for all the world like giant robots from outer space, took the unlighted bonfire apart tie by tie. On Saturday from our vantage point on the 20-yard line (we're getting there; by the turn of the century we should make the 40) we watched as the team bewildered Yale by getting off to a 21-3 lead and then watched as they failed to protect it, losing by one point. Oh well, it was another beautiful Indian summer afternoon.

Several other '45s joined us for dinner at the D:O.C. House that evening. One with whom I chatted was Gene Pinney, who retired in 1973 after a 25-year stint with the C.I.A. Having traveled all over the globe in that position, he and Pat are now settled down in Rockport, Maine.

Although the September issue of the ALUMNI MAGAZINE carried news only of the 1982 reunion classes, you may have noticed that there were three letters-to-the-editors with familiar signatures. Those apparently goaded into writing comments relative to the Review were GeneWilkins, Class President John Leggat, and H. C. Habein Jr. H. C. is really Harold, has an M.D. after the Jr., and writes from the hinterlands of Billings, Mont. You may have noted also that John, for additional credence for his opinion, had it countersigned by his son, Tod '83.

Now the latter part of Friday evening Marylee and John Osborn and Shirley and I, along with John's niece, slipped away to the Sheraton, where we danced up a storm to keep in trim for the 40th. You see, by adding in the age of John's niece, we lowered our average age and kept going well after midnight. Good trick. But come the next morning that kind of mathematical sleight of hand (or should I say of "foot") just didn't seem to work.

P.O. Box 39 Atkinson, N.H. 03811