Bereft of a presidential debate, the campus holds a Seuss-a-thon.
As it must to all Boy Reporters, we got our comeuppance over last month's big scoop that the Democratic presidential candidates would debate in Hanover on January 19, and presumably shower the nation with fireworks like those achieved in 1987.Not so. The Dems' troglodytic New Hampshire committee adamantly insisted on making the event a fundraiser, and obviously neither the College nor cosponsor UNH could be a party to that. No word yet on either new date or alternate arrangements, but we would personally like to be at the starting line when the Dartmouth tortoise, Paul Tsongas '62, matches campaign ideas with the hutch of miscellaneous rabbits that have now joined him in the race. The candidate spoke at Webster Hall a couple of days ago, and although our memory falters, he made a far more positive impression on us than did the Big Green's last presidential aspirant, Nelson Rockefeller '30, on the steps of Tanzi's in 1968. A campus organization has spontaneously risen, entitled Tstudents for Tsongas.
Spontaneous also was the Student Assembly's inspiration, in tribute to the just-departed Ted Geisel '25, to hold a 24-hour read-a-thon of every one of the Dr. Seuss books. Among notables and just plain readers, Dean of Students Lee Pelton led off in the afternoon, on the steps of College Hall, with The Cat inthe Hat. President Jim Freedman and wife Sheba appeared around dinner time with Green Eggs and Ham. (Sheba read the part of Sam-I-am). The affair lasted through the night and the next day, when English Professor Bill Cook wound up orating Oh, The Places You'llGo! from the broadcast booth before the Bucknell game. Even our editor got into die act, reading a singularly apt choice If I Ran the Circus, and reported that preceding him was a freshperson, Illanga Itoua who read TheCat in the Hat in flawless French.
When he wasn't reading Seussian literature, our editor was sifting through a dozen letters asking if the magazine was going to do something special on Geisel. The answer is yes, but you'll have to wait for the Winter issue.
Convocation provided a more auspicious platform for President Freedman. Pursuing his predilection for "mentors," "the truly great," as exemplars for students to study and emulate, he singled out the career of George Kennan and his steadfastness to principle, as exemplified in his talk at Dartmouth in 1981 when he received the Grenville Clark award. Harvard History Professor Bernard Bailyn who immediately won a few points by addressing the audience in Thompson Arena as "fellow-students" warned of the rise of the destructive power of government today, in the face of our continued reverence for the Constitution, a 200-year-old document from a pre-industrial, pretechnological era.
Our own continued reverence for the pageantry of the academic procession, described in the program as "one of the impressive spectables [sic] of our time," was a bit diminished by the relatively low turnout of faculty. And though an attempt to get them to wear their robes was partly successful, we did detect quite a few pairs of sport shoes and sneakers under the divers academic regalia.
Because just about all of the college football coverage you get in the nation's newspapers today is of the 25-top-teams variety, you may have missed the word that there were the makings of another fifth-down incident at the Lehigh game. With the score 30-28 against the Green, a two-minutes-to-go drive began, stalled by a couple of penalties after two first downs. Then Matt Brzica '93 caught a miraculous pass on the Lehigh 2 0 which would have given Dartmouth's place-kicker a nine-iron shot for a field goal and a 31-30 victory but it was ruled out-of-bounds. Even the Lehigh rooters couldn't believe it. One last pass attempt by quarterback Jay Fiedler '94 was intercepted, and that was the ball game. The game was locally televised, and in minutes the word got around that Brzica was clearly in bounds. No phone call to the Freedman home was forthcoming from Lehigh's President Peter Likins; but we heard that Coach Teevens did get an apology from the aptly named referee Bob Lynch.
As reported in the New York Times recently, two of Dartmouth's fellow institutions have gone up different forks on the alcohol-abuse road. Neither, we fear, is the one less traveled-by. Princeton is going the cans-and-bottles route by banning kegs, and Cook College of Rutgers U., lest the old tradition fails, is keeping kegs and banning cans arid bottles
Meanwhile, The Dartmouth, in a series of articles on the College's new alcohol policy, hopefully but also quizzically headlined the first one: "Is Dartmouth Destined for Sobriety?" That really would be the road less traveled-by. eled-by.
And, in fact, Dartmouth was recently reminded of the difficulty of that road. The body of Michael Malone '93, a much-liked member of Zeta Psi, was found in the Connecticut. His death was ruled by the Hanover Police as "accidental drowning with alcohol intoxication as a contributing factor."
The Dartmouth green pine-tree banner spent a lot of time at half-staff during these last few weeks, for Michael, for Dr. Seuss, and for Charlie Widmayer '30, who among many other quiet contributions to the College, was this magazine's editor from 1943 to 1973. You will find a tribute to him in this issue, on page 11. Charlie's numerous friends in Hanover, as well as his classmates, have established a fond in his memory, the income to go a project yet undecided upon, but to pertain to the Alumni Magazine, such as a student internship. To join these donors, send a check to Dartmouth College, Blunt Alumni Center and specify the "Charles E. Widmayer '30 Fund."
The financial affairs sweepstakes is now tied at Dartmouth 1, U.S. government 1. After a five-month, 1,000-hour audit, despite all the media's stories about wasteful expenses and private chauffeurs, there turned out to be less than one-percent difference between what Dartmouth has asked for and what the government will now grant for "indirect cost recovery" for research.
As for another particularly significant financial affair in the life of the College the just-announced $425 million capital campaign—here's one alumnus's loyal answer to another's fear about what would happen if we didn't make the goal: "When in its history has Dartmouth ever failed to excel?"
Back when there was such a thing as Carnival dates, we overheard one befurred young lady ask her escort, as they were standing at the C & G corner, looking up at the street signs: "I know who E. Wheelock was, but who was W. Wheelock?