1983

Several weeks ago, I woke up early on a Saturday and, as usual, turned on the TV to watch "Flipper" re-runs. Then, I impulsively decided to visit Dartmouth. Why not? I nave a good friend up in Hanover whom I hadn't seen for some time. Besides, I wanted to visit the College, pay condolences to the stricken Alpha Chi house, observe the students at play, and try some cross-country skiing if time permitted. Then I drove off without my skiis.

What did I see? Well, actually, quite a lot. For nostalgic reasons, I went to Thompson Arena for the hockey game. Although we lost, the team played well. But the rink was perhaps one-third full and at times eerily quiet. I remembered how lucky we were in our freshman and sophomore years, when we had GREAT teams, teams which qualified for the NCAA Championships, led by telegenic seniors named Brownridge ana Murphy, and backed mightily by our classmates Donnelly, Wilson, Flanigan, and Lavery. Thompson would be absolutely jammed, with maniacal "house blocks" presiding over the action, roaring encourage- ment to our team and bellowing unspeakably evil things to the opposition. The hockey team was so good in 1980 that an English professor (I forget who) wrote an eloquent article for the Alumni Magazine purely dedicated to lionizing the team and extolling Ross Brownridge's remarkable talents. Times have changed at Thompson.

After watching "Cry Freedom" at Hopkins Center, my next stop was 5 Olde Nugget Alley. I have always considered 5 Olde a sanctuary of sorts, a kind of subterranean mecca where you'd be sure to find a few friends to say hello to, hang out with, and end up ceremoniously putting the entire tab on your Visa several hours later. A few years after we graduated, 5 Olde teetered on the brink of new ownership and —Oh God! likely reconstruction. Happily, it has been properly restored as before, draws the same loud crowds, and still serves you with heartwarming rapidity.

After 5 Olde, my friend (I can't tell you his name) and I paid homage to Alpha Chi, which is on College probation. This was truly a sad sight, and there's not much more to say. The brothers, of course, are all firstrate. And the bicycle we stuck up in the front lawn tree in 1982 is still there. So there are positive signs. They even have a house dog, which quite properly is not one iota more intelligent than other famous alumni house dogs, such as Speedo '82.

At 11:30 Beta was hopping. We stood against the wall (where there was moderate safety) and watched undergrad hormones flying through the air. Everyone was having a great time, which was enjoyable to witness. You read so many negative articles about Dartmouth that it's easy to think the administration has legislated away "having fun." Not a chance. There were about 2,000 people in Beta and nobody looked unhappy.

When we left Beta and opened my car doors, a random dog (I think it was Kappa Sig's) jumped in my back seat and lay down. After ten minutes of coaxing, we finally airlifted the creature out, under the careful scrutiny of about 25 students, who for some reason kept threatening to call the "campus po."

Heorot isn't Heorot anymore. I think it's called "Chi Phi." The new nomenclature doesn't work for me, but the place was wallto-wall people at 2:00 a.m. so it's clear the students don't mind. Same story as Beta everyone was having a blast. Van Halen was playing at about 4,500 decibels. Two guys with mohawk haircuts were butting heads. I ran away when they spotted me staring at them.

Next morning I went to Thayer. Hey, this place has changed. Aesthetically, that is. The food's about the same. I spent an hour listening to students talking about life, some- thing they do very well Mid-terms were approaching, papers were due, current events like Mandela's release were debated

.. . then at 1:00, everyone went off to study. So, that was my weekend. I drove home feeling good. For I had thought more than once that possibly today's undergrads just don't like Dartmouth as much as we did. Rest easy, folks. The spirit's still burning brightly.

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