1979

FIFTH REUNION

Tent activities. It sounded innocuous enough, or so I thought, looking at my alumni reunion schedule. All of the other classes had this feature scheduled for Friday night. Would it involve computers? Only John G. knew the answer to that one and he wasn't talking, at least not until Saturday night. Louisa Guthrie also knew, but she wouldn't stop talking. More on Louisa in a moment.

As Friday afternoon rolled on, more '79s rolled in, including those world travelers from San Francisco, Boylan, Sullivan, Feuille, Wendell (now Adams), Debelius, Franklin, and Tomalonis. Those who had studied their yearbooks the night before were rewarded; the names flowed easily. Those who were winging it received an even greater thrill upon finding their memories to be less porous than they had feared. I tried to warn people of the potential dangers of "tent activities," but everyone preferred to "reunionize," or "reunionate," depending on your imagination.

Dinner was in the Bema. Not since Jeff Boylan's dog accompanied President McLaughlin on the podium had such a rare combination of talents been seen in the area. We were there then too, of course. I hate explanations. It was clear that other geographical regions besides S.F. were represented. The Teneriellos from D.C., John Peabody from Chicago, and the Lees from Texas were present, but they weren't the only ones. We had a very big crowd, maybe record-setting, but certainly over 300 alumni.

The tent activities proved anticlimactic and consisted of conversation. Too bad the phrase had such potential.

Saturday was a great day. The focus of the day centered around a continental breakfast, music and food by the river, and dinner in Alumni Gym. There was the class meeting, which resulted in an almost entirely new slate of officers. Everyone was so impressed by the reunion at that point that we made Louisa G. our new class president and placed on her shoulders the task of filling Kent Matheson's shoes. That means being a member of an organization that at least has a fancy letterhead. Matty plans to retire from public life and write a book on his experiences in leading our class; it will be entitled "Reign of Terror: One Man's Dream."

As far as other reigns go, Charlie Vieth will pick up where he left off as treasurer. Tom O'Neil showed incredible courage in voicing his fear at this choice, but the mood of the meeting was dangerous, and Tom was quickly quieted. The crowd continued to show litte tolerance for discussion or delay while food and inner tubes waited down by the river and was unanimous in its approval of myself as secretary, Chip Debelius as newsletter editor, Peggy Epstein as alumni councilor, Ted Winterer as head agent, and Phil Odence as mini-reunion chairman. The listing for mini-reunion chairman states that "creativity and enthusiasm" are major requirements. Phil, did you know that? Little did we realize that Phil and Beth Blatt would unleash their creative talents at dinner later that evening.

One other item that emerged from the class meeting concerned the establishment of the Women's Soccer Award, made possible this last year by the family of Ed Tuck '51. The award will go each year to that player who most contributes, to the team, and the award will be in Lucinda Fernald's name in light of the outstanding contributions that she made to women's soccer at Dartmouth. Excellent!

Saturday afternoon was a tremendous combination of music by "Right Time," led by Mark Weltner, good weather, and Harry Griffith's inner tubes. Tax shelter or not, Harry, it was a great idea. Carol Anderson Shaw, six months pregnant, inspired us all with her dedication to the luxury of the docks. Space was at a premium, but everyone was very mellow, remembering the chaos of the Great Dock Riots of sophomore summer.

Kemeny spoke to us over dinner that evening and described his life since leaving the presidency. He had not spoken to other reunion classes since his term ended, so kudos go to the reunion committee for their persuasive talents. Hey, maybe the guy likes us. After all, we are a great class. Well, we love you too, John G.

Kemeny spoke of his efforts at teaching and in developing a new computer language entitled True BASIC. Somewhat of a fanatical tinge there. Jean Kemeny continues her writing career with a novel this time. There are those of us still awaiting the best-selling expose of fraternities, "This Time It's Really Different at Dartmouth." Other high points of the dinner included making Ann Hanson an honorary '79, singing "Men of Dartmouth" when the slide show didn't work (quick thinking there, whoever you are), a few errant tomatoes, and, of course, dessert. Low points included all of the jokes made by Phil and Beth.

After dinner, the crowd roared forth to the disco inferno conveniently located in AD. The critical elements of the evening would turn out to be fast music, wild women, conservative men, conservative women, wild men, and that incredible fog machine. Who can forget the blinding tears upon contact with the smoke and the diabolical voice over the speakers, "It won't harm you unless you show fear." No one showed fear except for those people within the dancing range of Otho Kerr and his partner.

Now, no communication from Dartmouth would be complete without some mention of money. This time it's good news, however, as the class of '79 broke the previous record total for giving by a fifth-year reunion class. In addition to straight dollar figures, 74 percent of the class sent something in. Awesome. Remember that word? So congratulations go to everyone responsible but, in particular, to Peggy.

Louisa Guthrie, standing, newly-named, president of the class of 1979, accepted the Class of 1930 Trophy on behalf of her class. The trophy is awarded to the class having the most alumni in attendance during the 12-day period of reunions. Others pictured are, left to right, President of the College Emeritus John Kemeny '22ad; outgoing '79 president, J. Kent Mathewson; and Mary and Al Ives, faculty advisor to the class.

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