1945

It is April 16, one day after you-know-what; and I am now shifting from numbers to words. These words, which you will suffer through in June, will represent my swan song; and as this will be after the reunion and annual meeting of the class, you will then be privy to the name of the new class secretary.

You see, however, that I did manage not to be impeached. You may remember that Moose Rowan was chairman of the committee to accomplish that deed; but I think what saved me was the comfort of that hammock of his down there under the pines of North Carolina. The chairman of the nominating committee did approach me about serving another five-year term. When I recovered my composure, I stated my regrets (someting like no! no! a thousand times NO!). Being a gentleman, he insisted twice; being stubborn, I regretted for the second- and third-thousandth times; being tired of this little game, he capitulated (probably with a sigh of relief). After five years, I am off the hook; and so are you, dear readers.

Still on the hook, I suspect, is treasurer John Osborn, who not only has done a magnificent job with the "books" but also seems to have a magic touch for reactivating members of the class of '45. Recent names added to that list include Peter F. Held, a Manhattan dweller; Richard E. Welch, who boasts of a Ph.D. after his name and of Easton, Pa., as his hometown; and Frederick H. Campbell, who resides (retired?) on Holiday Lane in Colorado Springs.

Another name added is that of the most recent member of a very exclusive group, adopted members of the class of 1945. This name is Ernie Roberts, former executive sports editor and columnist for The BostonGlobe. Ernie fits the profile of the median '45. He is retired and divides his time between Hobe Sound in Florida and Franklin, Maine. Anyone unable to figure out what time of the year Ernie is where should step quietly to the rear of the class.

Increased active membership in the class helps us to increase our annual allotment to the Memorial Fund. A grant this year went to a junior, who, because of it, was able to travel to Mexico to participate in the Spanish Language Study Abroad Program.

And when I think of travel, I think of Dora and Frank Aldrich. A recent luncheon at their home (they do stop off there now and then) brought together Virginia and Fred Perry and Pamela and Jim Drumm. Although Fred lives in Weston, Mass., and Jim in nearby Hingham, their paths had not crossed in 20 years. I suspect a lot of truths, half-truths, slight exaggerations, and outright hooey were exchanged during that lunch period. Frank puts it another way: "It was good fun with much reminiscing - each of us having spent the preponderance of our careers in Latin America."

Frank's note came (naturally!) from Zurich, where he had stopped over on his way to Vienna for a meeting of the Interamerican Development Bank. I have found Frank to be a tremendous asset in more ways than one. First, he has a propensity for bringing together classmates who have not seen each other for many moons. Secondly, he has been my star correspondent. And not to be overlooked has been his contribution to my granddaughter's foreign stamp collection.

As I said, this is my swan song. You know, how I won this job in the first place has been something of a mystery. I suspect that someone, pouring over the 1945-46-47 Aegis, discovered that I was its editor and that I was an English major and a columnist for TheDartmouth. (That's it! That's our boy!) What the nominating committee didn't know five years ago - or didn't recall - is that after that Aegis went to press, I was elected editor of the Jack-O. Now you know why my columns have been laced with clever, lighthearted, and tasteful humor. Right? Perhaps said humor has been at times a bit too caustic. If so, and if anyone's sensitivities have been offended, I hereby apologize.

I do. I really do. Well . . . more or less, anyhow.

P.O. Box 39 Atkinson, NH 03811