1980

In some respects, it all seemed so familiar. Driving north on Route 89, I saw the last traces of snow beside the road. After all, it was just April. And this was New Hampshire. But Mother Nature cooperated and the skies were blue all day. After all, Cami Crone and Brent Bilger were getting married. The ushers escorted guests to appropriate pews; angelic bridesmaids circled by the door; and camera crews poised to focus and shoot. As the organist's traditional processional thundered across the Upper Valley, the lovely bride strode down the aisle to the stalwart suitor. Rob Dinsmoor clued me in with an elbow to the ribs. "She learned all of this," he said, teething on a hymnal, "when she was in London." At once I understood, as the trumpets urged us all to sing, Rob's reference to the royal wedding.

From near and far came the couple's family and friends. Not surprisingly, the '80 contingent was a large and boisterous one. Included in the wedding party were Tom Chapin, KatieCurrier, and Roy Johnson, who are all settled in the Boston area. Undoubtedly, they are all Sox fans as well. Roy has left New York and Wall Street behind for Wang's commercial/ competitive analysis department. No wonder he kept asking me all those questions about 1.8.M. systems. It's a good thing I don't know anything. Leigh Limbach, who was also at the wedding, makes up for me. She is a qualified 1.8.M. marketing representative in Boston.

Keith Pickholz trooped in from Chicago, where he works at the Mercantile Exchange. That is supposed to be a wild place to work. But Pickles tells me it's not quite as wild as Rush Street, Sinatra's "Street of Dreams," where he is apt to spot other Chicago mayoral candidates like John Cholnoky, Bill "Shoes"White, Dennis Lawson, and Richard Pryor (fire marshal). And Todd Pellet thumbed in from lowa City, where he is coaxing students to say "ahh" at the University of lowa. I'm not sure if Todd is also studying at the school of modern dance, but he fairly danced the ladies out of their toe shoes at the Hanover Inn reception.

Craig Lambdin drove up from New Jersey, where he works for the Fidelity Union Bank in Newark. His roommate, Rick Gemberling, formerly worked there but he is now at the N.Y.U. Business School. The boys live in a ninth-floor walk-up in Hoboken and are planning to move into Manhattan. Today: Hoboken. Tomorrow . . . the Bowery? Another one of their Bones Gate brothers, Jeff Citrin, also trooped up to Hanover with his wife Rona. Jeff is all set to blast out of Columbia Law School.

Another class representative was Blaze Tatanani, who hopped the iron horse from Pennsylvania. Now Blaze has an interesting job. He works for U.S. Steel, which posted a first-quarter loss of $ 118 million. I wonder if they have any color pens other than red? And I certainly hope Blaze isn't the person who writes the report to the stockholders ...

Beloch-of-the-month goes to Rob Dinsmoor, the nibbler of hymnals, for his New York street antics one night last winter. We were crossing Second Avenue from one East Side pub to another when some madman jumped a red light. Concerned that we'd almost become hood ornaments, and in a display of ten-Budweiser bravado, Rob gave the van a swift kick as it sped by us. The driver didn't particularly care for this and tried to perform a tracheotomy on this month's award-winner with a baseball bat. Nearby entrepreneurs were busy selling tickets to the gathering crowd. Fortunately, we disposed of the "Louisville Slugger," and all's swell that ends well.

Congratulations to Lewis Lee, who married Pam Paul in Jacksonville, Fla.

I'd like to take a minute to welcome Dr. Douglas Greenwood '66 to his new post as the DARTMOUTH ALUMNI MAGAZINE editor. I also would like to draw your attention to the masthead, which reads: "This publication is guided by Dartmouth's principle of freedom of expression." I look forward to the continued exercise of my freedoms during the next few years.

As I write this, I am reminded that I will now enjoy a three-month recess, which should provide you with ample opportunity to drop me a line during the summer. There is never too much grist for the mill,? Remember, if you write to me, I will write about you whatever you say. If you do not write to me, I may still write about you. But it may not be pretty . . .

I wish all of you a happy and healthy summer.

96 Lexington Avenue Oyster Bay, N.Y. 11771