1988

You weren't hallucinating back in November. You weren't flashing back to a blank Mac screen the night before a report was due. There were no class notes in November, pure and simple. When I got the November issue I thought, for a moment, I had written a column and had just forgotten to FAX it to the magazine. Not so. After calling the magazine to make sure that they hadn't misplaced it (Hey, nobody's perfect, and we'd forgive them, right?), I went through my own files. No column.

Then, I thought back harder. When the column was due, the mailbag was tapped. The phone is too expensive. And, I figured, you're probably tired of me tying two or three items together with a rambling discourse on a completely unrelated theme. Even if it is a little funny. Nothing will come (or, in this case, came) of nothing.

It's always darkest before the dawn, however, and this may turn out to be the smartest thing I never did. Amy C. Smith's letter arrived at my pad just two days after the issue. "As there was NO (her emphasis) class of '88 section in the most recent magazine, I figured you need a little help from your classmates. So here it is," she began.

Amy sent along a photo of herself, KathyBartels and Moira Red Corn in the Class of '88 Canoe, paddling along the Connecticut River back in the summer.

Amy then told the story of how BennettSchwartz, a Ledyard enthusiast, solicited many of us to contribute money for the purchase of this canoe. It's now housed at Ledyard and has been in constant use since our graduation. "Kathy, Moira and I were particularly proud to be paddling this canoe as all three of us had contributed toward its purchase," Amy wrote. It's also worth noting that the '88 canoe is the only one at Ledyard that bears the name of a Dartmouth class.

A fitting analogy to our class. If we can get together on a canoe (not literally), can't we get together on our notes and other class projects? Otherwise, there'll be more months like November and we'll all be up a creek without a paddle come reunion time.

This just in: A colorful missive has arrived from a group of former women ruggers now based in Chicago. And a letter from a dear fraternity brother, Paul Blevins, surfaced on my desk. So, at least for the next issue, you'll have something to read. Make sure there's plenty for the months to come—write!

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