Dr. Wheelock's Journal
Divers Notes & Observations
WE MENTIONED LAST MONTH that in addition to the wrecking ball now poised outside the doomed hospital building, a mild dose of demolition might also be prescribed. This has been confirmed, and if you're reading these words north of Hanover, an awful lot of dust may still be settling over your house. But you should also know that to mercifully end the days of the old hospital, the honor of pressing the button went to Bill Wilson '34.
Sixty-two years ago, Wilson heard a senior call down the hall to a friend that he was quitting his job at the Hitchcock Hospital. He made it from Topliff to the hospital in three minutes flat and got the job which included room (small), board (spartan), and laundry (sparse) in compensation for all kinds of rough duty, including stoking the furnace. Sixteen years later, with a degree in hospital administration and an enviable record with two nationally prominent institutions, Wilson began a 30-year career as Hitchcock's administration head. Although he modestly gives credit to his "super bunch of department heads" for the hospital's prolific innovations during those decades such as the nation's first intensive care unit and the nationally known cardio-pulmonary unit Wilson himself figured largely in the establishment of the Norris Cotton Cancer Center. And during it all, he endeared himself to community, staff, and patients for his friendly and straightforward manner and endless good humor.
THE GREEN PLYWOOD FENCE that temporarily fronted the hospital on Maynard Street was a natural temptation for graffitists, but they were preempted by an official mural contest. It didn't uncover any budding Orozcos, but at $5 per panel, it brought out some nostalgia, a bit of romance, one or two good commercials, and any number of hidden artistic urges and the proceeds went to the Cancer Center. Still on hospital matters, it was announced late last month that Trustee Dick Page '54, now also chairman of the Will to Excel Campaign, would add to his record of service to his Alma Mater the chairmanship of the Med Center's Board of Trustees as well.
GOVERNOR DICK LAMM, IN HIS second time around as a Montgomery Fellow, challenged a packed house in 3 Rockefeller with shocking statistics showing that the miracles of modern medicine are not an unalloyed triumph. Never once changing the smile on his face, Lamm reminded us why and how our aging bodies could easily bankrupt the next two generations. Examples: since 1900, Americans' life expectancy has grown by 29 years; ten-per cent of those of us now over 65 have children over 65, and centenarians compose the fastest-growing age group. In 2030, if present trends continue, just four entitlements will require our entire national income, and our children will then owe $17.4 trillion. Lamm maintains it will shortly become an ethical problem: how much can we afford to spend to maintain not just an active or productive life, but merely a life?
ONE OF THE PRINCIPAL FIGURES in the current-historyvs.-memory dust-up over the A-bomb is history professor Marty Sherwin '59, retiring director of the Dickey Center for International Understanding. Sherwin, who played a major part in the Smithsonian's disputed Enola Gay exhibit, asked again for an unemotional and impartial review of the events leading up to and including Hiroshima, in a recent and well-attended talk sponsored by the Center. Despite the historical evidence that he presented, we felt that his most telling observation was that even 50 years from the dropping of the bomb is far too soon for such a review to take place. There are too many of us yet around who recall our overpowering urgency at the time, whether we were uniformed or civilian, to get the war over and done with, regardless of how.
A 50-year wait to attack the problems of the country's cities would certainly not be the suggestion of HUD Secretary Henry Cisneros, who spoke at a Master of Arts in Liberal Studies conference on Contemporary Issues in Urban Society and he compellingly outlined his agency's efforts that are dealing with them right now. Unlike the non-political Commencement talk last June by his boss Bill Clinton, Cisneros scored the Contract with America's proposed $26 billion, 27 percent slashing of his budget. Admitting the public-housing failure of Chicago in its attempts to isolate minorities in high-rise apartments, he mentioned that the next day he would be in Chicago to witness the destruction of two such buildings. Not that we doubted him, but we checked in the Tribune of a couple of days later; sure enough, two Henry Horner "projects" had indeed just been leveled.
JUST ABOUT MID-SUMMER, THE Drama Department staged a spectacular production of A Midsummer Night's Dream, which graced the boards of the new Moore Theater for several performances a most imaginative setting, some real slinky fairies, a hilarious troupe of would-be players, and a versatile and magical Puck.
Hard to believe, but September was the tenth anniversary of the Hood Museum. And also in September, Spaulding had a treat for the community's music-lovers a concert by the renowned soprano Frederica von Stade.
WE CAN ASSURE YOU THAT never -again will fans at Memorial Field have to gripe about the invisibility, inaccuracy, and occasional inaction of the scoreboard. The new one, the gift of the class of 1966, put on a professional performance at the annual Shrine Bowl game a few weeks ago. The game itself, featuring the top high schoolers of New Hampshire against those of Vermont (New Hampshire won, barely), certainly got us stirred up about Big Green practice in late August. We learned that one of the New Hampshire co-captains had been accepted at Dartmouth, and should be of help in the tight end department.
Meanwhile, you might enjoy a story that recently appeared in the Valley News. An old NFL custom decrees that at training camp, every recruit has to get up on a chair and sing his Alma Mater's fight song, usually to the jeers of the regulars. Defensive back Brian White '95, a free agent with the Boston Patriots, admitted he didn't know Dartmouth's fight song every time he heard it, he was on the field trying to concentrate on the game. They let him off with The Star-Spangled Banner, and sure enough, Brian reported, they all respectfully stood up.
An extraordinarily qualified thumb starts 1 the implosion of the old hospital.
