1935

I presume I am at the traditional low point in the career of a fledgling class secretary; having had plenty of material from reunion to fill a first column, I am next faced with the task of creating a second column from very slender resources. I take the charitable view that ignorance of either my new status or my address is responsible for a mailbox empty of classmate correspondence.

Well, not completely empty. RudyPacht was kind enough to forward a copy of a citation which accompanied the latest Hollywood honor accorded to Harry Ackerman. A star with Harry's name on it has just been inserted in Hollywood's "Walk of Fame," and Harry thus joins the host of illustrious movieland personalities previously so honored. At the dedication ceremony, Harry was cited as"one of the best known and most respected producers in television" and "the dean of comedy." In support of the latter designation, the citation listed an astonishing number of shows which Harry has supervised or produced.

Equally impressive was the variety of civic activities in which he has played an important role. (One that particularly intrigued me was "commissioner of the California Civil War Commission." I am

writing Harry for enlightenment as to just what that might entail, as it should be a matter of interest to the history buffs in the class.) I am also passing along the citation to Reg Bankart in the hope that the whole document can be reproduced in the "Tear Bag."

I have two other classmate communications, one from a classmate whose name is withheld to keep us clear of any possible libel suit. It encloses a formal notice to the effect that Bud Cahoon has just been joined in his law practice by a Shirley J. Sylva. The accompanying comment, which is as cryptic as you may wish to make it, suggests that, if Bud is going to stay in harness past age 70, this is probably as pleasant a way as any to do it. The other note, from Al Brush, encloses a clipping in which our many-talented reunion chairman Don Radasch is shown being honored for his service to New London's Tracy Memorial Library. Considering the pulchritude and ages of the trio of ladies pictured with Don, his motives might be considered, by the more cynical among you, as just as questionable as Bud's. . . . Honi soit qui mal y pense.

A more tender note is apparent in a lovely letter from not a classmate but a classmate's wife, who asks to remain anonymous. Commenting on the special ambience that she perceived for the first time in her experience at reunion, she wonders if a change from past reunion attitudes has actually taken place, or if she "has merely become sensitive to a condition that has always been there." If there has been a change, are there others who are also aware of it? And from what did it spring? She sees it as a phenomenon in which "a warm, kindly, relaxed spirit of brotherhood (and sisterhood)" developed and flourished, making reunion a very special memory for everyone there. For my part (and I would appreciate hearing from others, particularly wives, as to their own reaction), I have sensed this feeling steadily developing at our mini-reunions and wonder if it didn't somehow reach out and touch many classmates who haven't been making the fall meetings. That is why I think we can comfortably refer to the solidarity of The Great Class of 1935 without fear of accusations of chauvinism.

One proof or test of that will be of special interest to me. I have both a brother and a nephew who have served in the role of class secretary, and they tell me one of the perils of the job is traceable to a strange reluctance on the part of most classmates to take pen in hand and pass along a little piece of what's been happening to them, what they think about the state of the Union, or whatever. Coaxing, I'm told, will get me nowhere.

Should that be true, I'm prepared to resort to threats. For instance, if I should write that I have been unable to verify a rumor that John Wallace was picked up by the FBI for impairing the morals of some sweet young 16-year-old, wouldn't he wish he'd taken ten minutes for a postcard message instead? It could happen to any of you (and Sax Ziemen and I have lively imaginations). So let's hear from you.

The painful subject of recent obituaries has already been dealt with in the "Tear Bag," so I will pass on that for this issue. Relevant thereto, however, I have some interesting information gleaned from TheMathematics of Longevity by the famous numerologist Dr. Matrix. He provides extensive documentation for his theory that the number 70 has particular significance as an aging milestone which, once passed, provides special immunity to the depredations of old age so long as the individual maintains a positive, forward-looking faith in the good times that lie ahead.

So think positive, keep the faith, and, I repeat, let's hear from you! Peace and love to you all.

Intrepid DOC enthusiast Landon G. "Rocky" Rockwell '35 traveled to the North Pole lastspring. In a letter to Dartmouth's Director of Outdoor Programs Earl Jette, he wrote, "Iwalked around in a wide circle through all 24 time zones, into tomorrow and back intotoday. At the exact point of the Pole, if you can pin it down, there is no time - that is,the time of day is whatever you choose it to be. Interesting situation. Having climbedmountains all my life, one of the satisfactions, aesthetic and psychological, of reaching asummit is that that is where all the lines meet. Your immediate physical world convergesthere. I had the same sense of that situation at the Pole."

Box 986 Sag Harbor, NY 11963