1929
Box 246 Monument Beach, MA 02553
"I live in Andres," said Charles F. Moore '87, who's properly proud that his new dorm is named for his grandfather, our Bill Andres.
I was privileged to attend the ceremonies naming the new Wheelock Street dorm cluster for Bill and for Lloyd Brace '25, Bill Morton '32, and Charlie Zimmerman '23.
Bill spoke movingly of his love for his classmates and for all of Dartmouth. His grandson spoke for the new residents of the new dorms and gave Bill accolades as a grandfather, too. Dick Black, Charlie and Fran Dudley, Larry and Mary Lougee, Phil and Alice Mayher, Frank and Petey Foster, and Dud and Florence Orr were there. The lovely girls' group who sang "Dartmouth Undying" at the close left us in proud tears. One alum said, "I've wet my tie before, but this got into my galoshes!"
At dinner with Bill and Dud I thought of John Dickey and what '29 has been able to give to Dartmouth. They and the honorees gave major shares of their time and strength and talents to the College while in the prime of their careers. My association with our Alumni Council head, Mark Harty '73, awes me with the share he gives. This is why Dartmouth is our greatest college.
Larry Lougee and Earl Fyler sent me notice in time to catch Larry's fine movie work in a P.B.S. film about our ski troops in World War 11. The films at Camp Hale were mostly Larry's work. Watch for repeats on P.B.S. Larry's book about his war experience, Days to Forget and Years to Remember, still rests in the Library archives. No other book has given me the vicarious experience that Larry's has.
Charlie Dudley as usual has things set for our September 18-19 Princeton game reunion with a buffet dinner at Ho-Jo's on Friday and dinner at our own room at the Inn on Saturday. Charlie's Lebanon College has over 1,000 registrants vs. 250 for the local branch of the state university. He and Dick Black are major reasons why Dave Orr, Senior Associate Director of Alumni Affairs, writes me, '"29 will always be one of those special classes."
Frank Ryder '30 called with word of Zack Wright. He and Red Kennedy, that souzaphone and bull fiddle player in all the musical groups, and Ralph Stevens all came from Middleboro, Mass. Zack stayed only a year. I liked him.
I'm becoming an expert on the Hopkins Institute and wish I had space for a column on it. I'll take collect calls. I love Ave Raube and his motives, but deplore what can be a lasting divisive thing for Dartmouth.
I wish you could all have seen and felt the Dave McLaughlin presence at the dedication ceremonies. How far he is above our public politicians. This month's polemic is surely not for him:
To me a presidential smile Smacks scant of joy and great of guile. Ike's smile, I'll credit this to him, Was always something rather grim. The Nixon smile I must insist, Was by his cosmetologist. And Carter, like the Cheshire cat, Had just a smile, and that was that. The jaunty Reagan smiles to hide The agonies he holds inside. I go to circuses for clowns. Give me a president who frowns.
