1980

"To the class of 1980: Several years from now, you may open this book and look at faces - yours, friends, acquaintances', and unknowns' ... I hope that you will view yourselves with honesty and compassion . . . and that you will appreciate the commonalities and uniquenesses that are suggested by the photographs."* - Karen Blank, "The Freshman Book: 1980"

*And Ty Burr etchings . . .

Well, it is now several years from then. Scanning the bookshelf, I locate Blank Karen's tome between The Complete Pelican Shakespeare and Emily Post's Etiquette. It is time for my annual joust at "Who's Who in the 'Bos." Breathe deeply once, twice . . . here goes nothing.

Remember A. Scott Andrews? From St. Christopher's to Dartmouth to Virginia to the starched, pinstriped halls of Morgan Guaranty, Scott has forever been on the bi-annual move. His next two-year hitch is with a strip-mining operation in central Wyoming. Citing the union "bennies" as too good to resist, Scott turned in a dozen oxford cloth shirts for a miner's helmet and a gargantuan set of Carter's coveralls. Jeanne Dixon predicts that Scott will return to civilized New York in - you guessed it - two years.

In June 1980 Dave Campbell sold his "64 Greatest Motown Hits," packed a bedroll and 30 days worth of K-rations, and hopped aboard a packet in the Quincy shipyard. Following layovers in Sao Tiago, Foz do Cuneuze, and Djibouti, Soup disembarked in France and, for a grin, enrolled in med school - for two weeks. Now he's working on the docks at Marseilles, waiting contentedly ("tout va vien," he writes) to set sail again.

Harrison C. Eldredge, Choate '76, Dartmouth '80, UFool '82, is on a dig of old Eskimo settlements in Point Barrow, Alaska, the northernmost point in the United States. Between excavation sessions, Harry photographs wildflowers in the summer and carves scrimshaw by the light of his seal oil lamps. He's also busy igloo-break ing his Malamute sled dogs, J. K. and Ralph

Meanwhile, Laura Giuliano has changed jobs in Boston. Citing her need for "more discipline and a healthier lifestyle," the jewel has joined the Army. Apparently basic training was as much fun as jogging behind a bus but Laura is quick to point out the fringe benefits. "We get libeity every other Friday night, we play cards in the barracks after lights-out, and I have a dozen new khaki outfits. And there's room for advancement - I could be a tank commander by May . . ." Keep your eyes peeled for Lauras role in the sequel to Private Benjamin. Another service recruit is Ross "Ex Officio" Jaffe, who, between terms at Johns Hopkins, trains with a paratroop unit at Fort Bragg.

Correction: Tom Cammann sent a pus-a-gram from California to change the records of his fiancee's name. Bonnie's last name is Linder (as a Canadian might pronounce "Linda," eh?). (Editor's note: Bonnie was also listed in your program as a utility infielder/bats:R/throws:L/6'2"/203 lbs./hits to all fields/dangerous when cornered, etc . Tom said nothing about the statistics, therefore we presume they are accurate to the best of our knowledge.)

Congratulations to Devon Jersild, who is now an assistant account specialist in her home-town of Moline, Ill. Devon works for Merrill Lynch, Pierce, Fenner, Smith, Barney and Betty Rubble (Wall Street's answer to Eight is Enough) and sent along this delightful "Ode to an Investor": Happy days are here again The shares you hold have split again We plan to raise the dividend Happy days are here again . . .

Around the world in '80 days: Do you remember Sigurdur Hardarson? Siggi was my neighbor in Wheeler Hall for the first six days of freshman fall term. Well, he returned to Eyjafjordur, Iceland, worked in a sardine packing plant for a few years, and now manages a health spa in nearby Rjejanookr (looks like the bottom line of an optometrist's test chart).

Little Merle Abelbrain writes (again?) from Boston that all is well in Beantown. "The terror of Tremont Street," who still works for DEC (Kiewit Komputers Kommpany, etc.), wrote of a little Big Green reunion at John D'Albis and Mike Woodward's New Year's Eve party. Merle says she thinks she had a good time. She can't remember. Don't worry, Merle, people don't talk about you behind your back - as far as you know.

North to Alaska, we're going north, the rush is on: Every summer, Bill Semmes packs up his mukluks and boondockers and heads up to the final frontier (sorry, Captain Kirk). Grandpa's peregrinations have carried him back and forth across the state six times. He is, in fact, an official "homesteader," with rights to the 40 acres which surround his hand-hewn log cabin. When winter sets in, Bill returns to his graduate studies of coastal and marine resource management at the University of Washington (Rose Bowl Queens) in Seattle.

As the brides go tearing by: Congratulations to Jeff Citrin. The poodle has announced his nuptial plans with Rona Hollander, who works at Citibank and skates with a roller derby team on Tuesday nights. The couple was engaged last fall. They will disengage in an August wedding prior to Jeff's third year at Columbia Law School.

Spanky s-believe-it-or-not: Citing his inability to adequately feed and clothe himself, Mark Hatch has taken a job with General Dynamics, the world's largest manufacturer of nuclear submarines. Formerly known as Conscientious Objector #1, Grinch intends to work for G.D.'s tactical weaponry division long enough to save a few months' rent so he can return to his job with Greenpeace.

Do you have a case of the endless-winter blues? Are you depressed? Do you feel pale, forlorn, and ugly? Well, just think how Al Noyes must feel. Did you know that Al was such an ugly kid his mother used to feed him with a slingshot? She took him everywhere she went so she'd never have to kiss him goodbye. Al once stuck his head out a car window and was arrested for mooning. There now, don't you feel better?

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