1928

Like taxes, and that other thing, it was inevitable that the day would come when there would be absolutely no news for the class notes. So this time it came. The telephone was used to the extent possible. The new number for Curly Prosser, who was scheduled to move to his retirement home about this time (early September) brought no answer. Curly is generally good for an item or two.

George Davis, who, incidentally, seems to be in good shape, had no news. George no longer rides his motorcycle but does ride a bicycle and works out on rowing machines and stuff. He suggested I write up something about the loyal and often very generous class widows who contribute to the Alumni Fund. The idea is good and will be undertaken one day.

A call to Ed Flanders, who often has had some communications to pass on, revealed that he is back in the hospital after a mild stroke. His wife, Dora, was upbeat about it and anticipated a full recovery.

Art Knerim himself was starving for items for his next Campaigner and, after scratching his head suggested tracing how many classmates were still in their old home towns and, if not, where had they gone. The results would be interesting but the research sounds like work to which your writer has been allergic lo these many years. Other telephone calls found nobody at home. Mutt Jennings probably was on tour with the Boston Symphony and others, no doubt, were cruising on their yachts, climbing an Alp, riding their drag racers, and such. So, if so many are away from home engaging in pursuits wild or tame, why can't you let a fellow know?

That's the bad news. The good news is that there is not a single death to report this month!