Favorite Places

When we arrived' at the College on the Hill, the campus wasa trange new world Four years place like the backs

Certain nooks and crannies, buildings or ever mountain tops had become our most cherished spots. While some have changed over the decaged over remain exactly as they've always been these are the places where we blazed our trails, made our history, changed our lives these are our favorite places.

AARTLETT TOWER

Noel Fidel '66

Some may see Bartlett Tower as a curiosity. I first saw it, at age 7, as a wonder. My grandmother lived in Hanover and we visited her most summers; and one day my brother and I found our way up Observatory Hill, where the old stone tower loomed above us like a vision from King Arthur's time. Now, as then, I smell the damp wood of the stairs and feel the stone chill of the wall as, step by step, we stomped up the spiral staircase up to see what dragons waited at the top.

Ten years later, when I entered Dartmouth, the dragons had changed form: what to study, how to make my way away from home, the urgent mysteries of love and sex, the gnawing mystery of what I should become. These were not dragons one could conquer at the tower. It was a fine place, though, to think about them. And to avoid thinking about them—to escape the inner landscape in the outer one. I climbed the tower in those days to air myself, as one would air a stuffy room. Up there one took the long view: Perhaps Dartmouth was an idyll, like all idylls soon to pass, but beyond were world and time enough for all one would become.

Members of the classes of 1885 to 1895, who built the tower, surely took the long view, as did President Samuel Bartlett, class of 1836, who set them to the task. President Bartlett envisioned "a landmark more enduring than the Old Pine," and he was prescient; the Old Pine was struck by lightning in 1887, three years after construction got under way.

The tower was open except winters in my day, and one could come and go at will. But these days it is always closed. It plays no part in the Dartmouth life of my sons Nathan '02 and Louis 'O3 and their contemporaries; nor can alumni revisit it on their return. A kryptonite bike lock bars its gate—a weird, jarring presence that transforms President Bartlett's "enduring landmark" into a 19th-century anachronism, one old tradition Dartmouth chooses to let fail.

I hope the College, with the help of the alumni, will restore the tower to use. If liability concerns preclude the unrestricted access of past days, why not reopen it for Commencement and Convocation and reunions, and on special (and maybe even notso-special) weekends when the students might make their way up to the top. Would it be cost-effective? What is the price of wonder? President Bartlett and his students may have built us a castle in the air, but they put it on a granite foundation. It is a small tower. Yet there are those who love it.

THE BLEACHERS

Jenny Ross '83

Maybe it's due to my having spent nine years at an all-female school in my younger years (a school with little emphasis on athletics and only a "proper" school spirit), but when I think of my days at Dartmouth, one special place for me is on the bleachers, cheering for the Big Green football squad.

Freshman year, sitting among new found friends on the opposing teams side of the field, all of us in green, just overflowing with excitement, camaraderie, pride, working off the chill of the hard, cold seat with a hot cup of cocoa, cheering as loud as we possibly could, learning the age-old songs and being "passed up." Everything was new and exciting.

When sophomore, junior and senior years rolled around and the unmistakable smell of fall was in the air again, that same gnawing would begin in the pit of my stomach (which had nothing to do with the pregame Green Machines). Off to the football game I'd go, to renew friendships and cheer for this place I was coming to love. And now I was additionally awed by the view beyond the silly 'shmen opposite us—the red, yellow and orange mountains were just amazing.

To this day, each fall when briskness settles in I feel the same excitement of new things to come. The nostalgia settles in and I start mapping out a weekend to head up and cheer for the alma mater—from those wonderful hard, cold bleachers!

SPAULDING POOL

John S.Monagan '33

Who can forget its unventilated steaminess? Who can forget the battering choppiness of its waters? Who can forget the eye-searing irritation of its potent chlorine? Still, in Spaulding Pool I rose to a peak of physical perfection never since equaled, and I offer a silent thank you to the memory of the pool's donor, the distinguished New Hampshire governor, Rolland H. Spaulding, from whom it derived its name. It is he who is noted in College history for his memorable declaration that with the inauguration of President Hopkins, Dartmouth reached a "millstone" of progress.

Not for me is the Bema, the river or Dartmouth Row the prime memory. It is the steaming, teeming tides of Spaulding that are forever sloshing in my heart.

COLLIS

Hoi Ning Ngai '00

Anyone who knows me knows that I thought of Collis as my second home. If I weren't in class or in my room, that was where I could be found. It was the center of my Dartmouth universe. Everything came back to that place.

In the morning I'd walk through the TV lounge and find folks watching the news or reading the paper—all done with coffee mug in-hand. I'd see kids running back and forth from the info desk, sorting last-minute printouts. The same routine every morning, just different faces. As soon as class let out, I'd run into Collis Cafe to meet friends for lunch, frantically trying to grab that last available table. And then Id be greeted by the stir-fry guy, who'd know my order before I said it but always gave me the option of trying something new. After lunch I'd walk through Common Ground and hear the guy practicing on the old piano. The guy who didn't care who was listening and who was not; he just kept playing.

When I came back at night I'd have to make my way through the devoted Simpsons fans and the multiple study groups. I'd saunter up to the second floor to the sitting area—that was our place. My friends and I christened the computer there—we named it Winston. Whenever I grew tired of pretending to study, I'd always be able to find someone who needed a break or who never really cared to study in the first place. And we'd make our way to the Big Green Bean. To have coffee and gossip and philosophize and talk about whatever college kids talk about in the depths of night.

Yet the thing that I remember most about Collis is that I could stand at the info desk, at any given hour, on any given day, and know that half of campus would pass by within minutes. As if it wasn't just the center of my universe, but everyone else's as well. Even as I walk in as an alum, it's as much home as it ever was. Somehow I always seem to see familiar faces. The Collis manager.The administrators who stay late. The guys who close up the place at 3 a.m. And, of course, who could ever forget Winston?

THE SECOND COLLEGE GRANT

Dan Nelson '75

My favorite space is one that has hardly any buildings and, on some days, fewer people than bears. That's the Second College Grant. It's a place I first visited during the winter of my freshman year, participating in Dartmouth's Outward Bound Program. I've been back several times every year since then, sometimes several times in a given season, for snowshoeing and skiing, mountain-biking and hiking, canoeing, hunting and fishing—or just poking around. I haven't seen many sights more beautiful than the sunset over the Swift Diamond River when you're watching from Sam's Lookout, or the view down the road toward Diamond Peaks after the end of a long day while skiing back to the Management Center, or the glimpse of a beaver, moose or deer as you canoe around a bend in the Dead Diamond River. But best of all is simply being there with friends, drawn together in the fellowship of shared affection and appreciation of such goodness and beauty in life.

HOP SNACK BAR

Brenda Gross '79

In 1977 this ad appeared in The D: "Brenda, Meet you in the snack bar for a Tab. Your pal, Esther."

Esther Cohen and I may have lived in the dorms, but we really belonged in the Snack Bar. Yet we didn't go there for the food, the atmosphere or even the prices.

In the 1970s the Hopkins Center Snack Bar was not for eating. Its ugly formica tables were for hanging around. Killing time between classes. Drinking coffee. Intravenousing diet soda. Running into friends. On a rainy day especially, we'd check our Hinman post office boxes (for the fifth or sixth time) then drift toward the tables. Wed drop our junk mail, grab some coffee and settle in to talk, read, daydream and procrastinate.

Unlike the main dining hall, the Snack Bars food wasn't tempting or plentiful. No football-player portions of ziti. No soup ladles of blue cheese dressing or oversized brownies. And—most importantly for those girls who had already gained the "freshman 10" (pounds)—no self-serve, soft ice cream machine dispensing unlimited quantities of Dairy Queen.

Unlike Thayer Hall, the Snack Bar limited your options and your appetite. It offered no serious food choices. Just undercooked pizza and cold, wet, cellophane-wrapped sandwiches. (Were they tuna? turkey? chicken? It was anyone's guess.)

Some days, you saw nobody. But generally speaking, if you hung around long enough, you'd run into a kindred spirit. Someone with no meal plan and no serious Dartmouth affiliations (like sports or a fraternity). In the bare-bones Snack Bar of the 1970s (no computer terminals, no soft lighting, no identifiable food), you didn't see many students prepping for their Procter & Gamble interviews or contemplating M.B.A. programs. The Snack Bar attracted a more offbeat, Foley House-type of crowd. Vegetarians, feminists, environmentalists, rebels with and without a cause. Aspiring writers, actors and musicians—pale, artistic types who spent most of their days underground, in the music and rehearsal rooms of Hopkins Center.

The Snack Bar crowd of the late 1970s rarely makes the Class Notes columns or alumni newsletters (Imagine: "Snack Bar Girl Marries Snack Bar Boy"), yet it did kindle some lifelong romances, friendships and artistic collaborations. Perhaps, one day, there'll be a Snack Bar reunion. But to attract the old crowd, it would have to be completely different from the usual Dartmouth affair. There could be no formal invitations, no panels, no structured meals or activities. We'd serve only stale sandwiches, wilted salads and bad coffee. Then the Snack Bar alumni could just drift in, grab an uncomfortable chair and chat casually—to whomever they liked for as long as they liked—always on their way to somewhere else.

TOWER ROOM IN BAKER LIBRARY

George F. Day '49

The Tower Room in Baker is my favorite spot, not only at the College but almost anywhere on this planet. Whenever I am in Hanover I make a pilgrimage to this hallowed room and indulge in a few moments of uninterrupted nostalgia. What a marvelous place to read and reflect! It's a great place to snooze, too, but not necessarily to study. It is much more a place for snuggling down in one of those fine old armchairs and reading for pure pleasure: poetry, fiction or essays. I loved sitting in one of the alcoves that face the Green, where it is so easy to stand, stretch and observe whatever the capricious Hanover weather is dishing up. The Tower Room is a book-lover's paradise, the perfect setting for a good read on a cold winter night. To quote Robert Frost: "I don't know where it's likely to go better."

JACK-O-LANTERN OFFICE

Brooks Clark '78

The Jack-O-Lantern office, second floor, Robinson Hall. It was a great room—with solid walls on all four sides and a small window high enough up that, basically, nobody could see you from College Hall or walking to or from Thayer Hall. Two big desks and a big oak meeting table. My stereo and my green Smith-Corona electric typewriter.

There were lonely, happy times typing papers or working on the Jacko, getting a Tab and a Baby Ruth from the WDCR machines. The meetings were pure laughter, and when any of us get together today it's the same.

The office held a few sacred relicsissues from past eras, a large fake black bomb, an oil painting of an elk that we named "Proud Sentinel" and—for some reason—a 1969 Cherry Creek (Colorado) High School yearbook.

One relic from our era was an enormous mural, 10 by 15 feet, painted by Michael Mosher '76, a brilliant artist then and now. In the finest tradition of satire, it depicted Brad Brinegar '77 and Max Anderson '77, my mentors, lustily disemboweling the Jack-O-Lantem character.

Brad is now an ad executive in Chicago and Max is the often-controversial director of the Whitney Museum. How strange that the College chose to paint over their creation —presumably deeming it tasteless or incomprehensible. And this in the office of the magazine that spawned Dr. Seuss.

ROBINSON HALL

Jay Weinberg '40, Tu'41

When I first came to Dartmouth I got caught up in the Outing Club life, and Robinson Hall became my favorite spot. My four years were spent as club secretary, member of Cabin & Trail, features director on the Carnival Committee, learning to ski through the Outing Club and lots of trips to Mt. Washington, Moosilauke, Mt. Lafayette and Mt. Katahdin.

All of this enhanced the rest of my life. I still ski and hike, and my three children, seven grandkids and four great-grandkids are out-of-doors enthusiasts. I think I was a lucky guy to have found all of this and to make use of it for the rest of my life.

SANBORN LIBRARY

Nihad Farooq '94

As I work on my second of three 20-page papers due by the end of the month, I wonder why in the world I decided to pursue a Ph.D. in English. Then I remember what days like today felt like in Hanover—cold, crisp, perfect for curling up with a book in Sanborn Library. Upstairs in a comer alcove of the balcony I would sit and read for hours—from Dickens to Ellison to Kierkegaard. This is where I fell in love with academic work for the first timenot just as a reader, but as a critic and questioner. I would read and puzzle and look out onto the Green in all kinds of weather, letting the questions sink in. And then there was tea. Every weekday at 4 p.m. the bell would ring and we would all come down from our posts and hideaways, stepping away from the long tables and descending the creaky steps. In the spring we would congregate outside in the walkway between Sanborn and the '02 Room for a closeup view of Baker Tower. In the cold days we would tiptoe downstairs in our thick winter socks, happy to leave our wet boots behind as we curled up for conversation. Some of us would look intense, some bleary-eyed. Some would just need to talk about anything but 19th-century realism. I can't say that Sanborn tea was my inspiration for graduate work, but it was certainly part of a ritual that helped me start thinking like an academic.

STUDIO 3X

Sally Nutt Van Leeuwen '80

WDCR's Studio 3X is no more. Dartmouth's current radio studios are new and improved. But I have my memories, as do generations of Dartmouth disc jockeys.

Studio 3X was a cozy (read: small) room on Robinsons third floor. Yet by broadcasting from this tiny space, you could simultaneously be all over town. Make that the whole Upper Valley! That was a unique feeling. And it was empowering to feel, as a college student, part of a successful commercial operation.

I knew I belonged at Dartmouth Radio when my hard-earned third-class radiotelephone operator license joined the dozens that were already plastered all over the studios walls. Air time was a blast. I spent enough time in 3X to have the tagline for the P&C commercial permanently embedded in my mind. "P&C, your money-saver place to be in Hanover, Lebanon, White River Junction, Bradford, Windsor and Woodstock." It was especially gratifying to do the morning drive shift. All of us working then would enjoy breakfast brought up from Lous.

TRI-KAP HOUSE

Joe Bird '40

I was a member of Tri-Kap, the oldest fraternity on campus, where Daniel Webster was an honorary member. I pledged to TriKap in the fall of my sophomore year. Early on I started to enjoy the bridge games in our convenient card room. Many of us liked to play, and on weekends there was always at least one game going on all day and most of the night. We became so interested in the game we entered a team in the inter-fraternity competition. We were fortunate enough to be champions in the spring of 1938.

Playing bridge was fun, but living in the house for my senior year made it the most enjoyable part of my college life. I was working fulltime for my meals as a baker's helper at Mary Hitchcock Hospital. It was a good job and interesting. As I lived at Tri-Kap it was very convenient, especially when I had to be there at 6 several mornings a week.

What also helped our senior year was the new bar and lounge that we built in our basement. Jack Faunce '40, our house manager, developed a plan and successfully saw it to fruition. We even had a small kitchen, which was great for snacks. The built-in beer facility did not hurt either. To my knowledge, we did not have any drinking problems.

College life with a fraternity was great.

THE DARKROOM AT THE D

Jennifer Kay '01

From my freshman fall as a new photographer to my senior fall as photo editor for TheDartmouth, I spent most of my time in the darkroom on the second floor of Robinson Hall. I caught a lot of flak from my friends about the amount of time I put in there (they hated the fact that I'd mention it at all), but I honestly liked the darkroom. The film chemicals turned my nails orange. My hair smelled funny. The ventilation system didn't really work, so if I spent too much time printing or developing film with the door closed, I could taste chemicals inside my mouth.ltwas great. Digital photography is too sterile, as is sitting in front of a computer screen. The directorate after mine at The D bought digital cameras, which probably means they save on film and chemicals. But I think they're really missing out on that darkroom.

COLLEGE PARK

Professor Ursula Gibson '76

My favorite place is the area near Bartlett Tower and the Bema. This area is undisturbed, an oasis in a sea of busy lives. I had my first and only brush with rock climbing on the tower and spent many quiet hours reading in the Bema. I don't visit as often now, as I've moved from the east to the west end of campus, but I make it a point to get there a few times a year.

ROSEY'S CAFE

Simons Swink '98

Under the old blue house just across from the Hop, near the continual bustle at Ben & Jerry's and Subway, is a little bakery bistro called Rosey's Cafe. For most people it was always a little too far away to be convenient, but it was where you might meet a prof or someone you hadn't seen for a term or two to catch up. Or maybe buy the most beautiful flowers in town at the little shop in the back. I did most of my armchair exploring in college at Rosey's over a bagel and cream cheese, toasted just dark enough that the bread had not started to char, and a coffee called "Dancing Goats" that's never been matched by anything at Starbucks.

OCCOM POND

Harold Putnam '37

My special place at Dartmouth College is Occom Pond. Rimmed by aged pine trees and graced with fine homes, the pond is the focal point of the beauty and the tranquility that marks the College campus.

I am particularly fond of it in winter, when snow covers the shores and the trees arid the surface is frozen. A better place for outdoor skating has not yet been invented.

I used to skate there many nights when the temperature had sunk well below zero—once way down to minus 32. Then it was not only frigid, but lonely. Only a few skating team members and a rugged North Country nurse turned out in such unfriendly weather.

THE CEMETERY

Joe Burnett '40

My favorite place at Dartmouth was the cemetery where Eleazar Wheelock is buried. Back then the space between Middle Mass dormitory and the cemetery was entirely grass, so it was a natural thing to wander across and enter the cathedral-like world of tall pines and ancient memories. Not only was it quiet, but it connected one to Dartmouth's romantic past. Over the years this ancient cemetery has remained a place for relaxation and contemplation.

Once I encountered a young, attractive lady dressed entirely in white, a Dartmouth student who evidently also enjoyed the special solitude of that place. I was not entirely certain that this experience was real and not phantasmic. I was relieved a short time later to discover that a classmate had also seen and talked with this young lady in white and experienced the same mystic feeling.

PINE PARK

Coach Barry Harwich '77

One of my favorite places is Pine Park; specifically, the running trail along the Connecticut River. It is beautiful, peaceful and quiet. I have run through there literally hundreds of times and I still enjoy it every time. At the end of the trail is Freshman Hill, a steep climb up from the river that brings you out on the golf course.The hill was given that name because it is about the two-mile mark of the team's cross-country course. Tradition has it that is where the freshmen runners in.the race "die" before they struggle through the rest of the course. I am not going to say that happened to me when I was a frosh, but I have seen it happen many times since!

HEY, NO PLACE IS PERFECT

HOPKINS CENTER

Marlene Heck, art history lecturer

When I arrived at Dartmouth, I couldn't take my eyes off the Hopkins Center. What were they thinking to let that happen? All the problems with Modernism are folded into the Hops design: It arrogantly ignores its rural New England context, the materials are wrong for its setting on the Green, and the grand paved "urban plaza" is entirely out of place in Hanover. (One of the first assignments I gave my students was to design a replacement building for the site after the Hop "mysteriously burned down one Saturday night.") Now I finally understand that the Hop was Dartmouth's step into Modernism, and the building provided a prominent place, long promised, for the arts. Modernism fell from favor—its promises of a better, improved world were never met—and the Hop still stands awkwardly on the Green. But I've made my peace with it.

RESERVE CORRIDOR

Liam Kuhn '02

The reserve corridor in the basement of Baker Library is my least favorite place at Dartmouth. I avoid it like the plague. I'd rather be forced to crawl across the Green in my underwear during the height of mud season than spend any extended period of time in the reserve corridor (maybe my grades reflect that sentiment).

To begin with, it's in the basement, which gives it a certain dungeon-like quality. Basements are funny things at Dartmouth. As a fraternity brother, some of my fondest memories of college have taken place in basements, but not this one.

The reserve corridor has the famous Orozco murals which, while beautiful, are a little daunting and depressing, especially if you're mired in the stress of writing a term paper. The imposing figure of Quetzalcoatl staring down at you in full raging color isn't exactly an image that's conducive to studying.

Because nobody goes to the reserves unless they've got a lot of work to get done in a short amount of time, the place just gives off an aura of tension and hostility. The pressure felt by generations of students struggling to pull off all-nighters is palpable. A sense of desperation and despair perpetually hangs in the air.

FRAT ROW

Regina Barreca '79

There are lots of places in Hanover I remember with great love, but I hated Fraternity Row.

Frat Row was like a handsome guy dressed in a classic suit who, when he smiled, showed a mouth full of broken, crummy teeth.

The smell of Frat Row has lingered throughout these many years. The sharp acid scent of beer and piss is what I remember best from parties in those perpetually almost-elegant buildings—or (insert fluttering of eyelashes here) perhaps that's just my girlish perspective getting in the way? Maybe there were fabulous soirees? Sparkling and sophisticated conversations? Maybe even clean bathrooms and non-sticky floors?

Mostly I just wanted to dance and hang out. Sometimes that worked, but more often parties dissolved, not into Animal House but into Carrie.

Trust me, I wasn't expecting Laurence Olivier to open the door to one of the houses any more than anybody was expecting me to act like Grace Kelly ringing the bell.

But even in my hometown of Brooklyn the very worst of hosts would try to make everyone who was invited feel genuinely welcome. Even in Brooklyn people didn't "blowchow" on a guest's shoes and then laugh. Even in Brooklyn, people didn't throw scalding water on their friends or expect every girl who walked in the door to offer a smacking kiss. (Not without paying for it, either literally or metaphorically) Even in Brooklyn, in other words, people had class.

Class? Not on Frat Row.

"I love Collis There's just something about the comfy, cozy atmosphere that almost tricks me into believing that it's the downstairs of my home."

Melissa Yamauchi '03

"Balch Hill, where sunsets are amazing. I love to go there when I need a break. I absolutely love Dartmouth but sometimes I get overwhelmed, and the view from Balch Hill with Baker Tower nestled into the green, rolling hills beyond always provides me the perspective on life that i am looking for."

Stephanie Fish "01

"My favorite place is the first tee at the Dartmonth-owned- and-operated Hanover Country Club, I love warm weather and playing golf, and when I'm standing on the first tee I'm facing both the physical and mental challenges of golf while having the opportunity to get some exercise on HCC's hills."

Kafhy Slattery, director of sports publicity

"Without question, my favorite place on campus is the Student Workshops. Massive amounts of creativity for the sake of creativity. Incredible amounts of self-motivation and innovation, and then, wonderful objects that endure."

Professor John K. Lee '78

"One of my favorite places on campus is the Tower Room at Baker Library. I love sitting on the couches by the big windows. Everything is so quiet when I look up from my books into the pretty Green, the trees that surround it and people walking back and forth."

Hayoung Kim '03

"Kresge gym and the athletic facilities at Dartmouth give me the opportunity to tel! myself who I am—and then become it. I believe that a person has three components to life: the intellectual, the spiritual and the physical. Exercise is not simply about maintaining a healthy physique but asserting the full breadth of who one is. If nothing else in my day goes well, I always have the opportunity to make my day outstanding by challenging myself physically and succeeding. While some may hold that accomplishing great deeds in athletics is mainly a matter of physical ability, I am convinced it is overwhemingly about willpower and has very little to do with strength or fitness."

Dr. Stuart Lord, dean of the Tucker Foundation

"Special Collections, it's really remarkably beautiful inside, and being surrounded by all that antiquity seems to engender scholarship."

Josh Warren '02

"The fire escape out the window on the fourth floor of South Fayerweather. it's possibly the best place to smoke a cigarette anywhere on campus, and probably the only place I never think about school or stress because being out there is my break from all that"

Jeremy Lepage '02

"After more than 30 years at Dartmouth there are many places that I love, but perhaps my favorite is the Green on a summer evening with the sun reflecting off Baker Tower and Dartmouth Row. There are usu ally groups of students relaxing on the Green, and Dartmouth Hall almost shines."

President James Wright

"I'd definitely, have to say the area by the Robert Frost statue above the Bema. I love reading up there on a Saturday after noon, napping and watching the sunset over Baker."

Tracy Kim '02

"Lake Mascoma, home of the Dartmouth sailing team. No matter what season if is the lake is always exquisite. In the fall the foliage is outstanding, in the winter the snow is beautiful, and in the spring and summer the water is crystal clear and everything is green. It's a perfect place to relax."

Leslie Sandberg '01

"Food Court. To me Food Court is like Cheers. I'll always see someone 1 know. All the work ers there are accommodating and greet with you a sincere smile. The food is scrumptious. It's not my mother's home cook ing, but it's leaps and bounds above any other college food that I have tried. By far the best thing about Food Court is that after you finish your food you can loiter around and just hang out with your friends. It is a perfect reprieve from rigorous life outside the Food Court doors."

Jarecf Thorns '03

"Alumni Hall. The functions and meetings that I have attended in that room for more than 30 years have been wonderful. Alumni Hall means fun, good food and learning. And that great big old Dartmouth sign is just sooooo cool."

Nels Armstrong 71

"The Top of the Hop, It has a nice atmosphere—quiet and cozy. When I get bored or just want to relax, I can just sit there and gaze at the scenery through the huge windows."

Junko Kobayashi '03

"My favorite place at Dartmouth is my bed. I think I just have a great affinity for that which I don't get to spend much time on."

Jayson Hyun '03

Bartlett Tower

Kresge Fitness Center

Tower Room, Baker Library

Occom Pond

Pine Pank

Leverone Field House (circa 1983)

Ravine Lodge

Moosilauke Summit

ABOUT THE PHOTOGRAPHER JOHN SHELDON '74 is a partner with H/OPhotographers in Hartford, Vermont. He shot theimages for this story in the fall of 2001.

"Occom Pond's mix of water and nature portrays all the beauty and Character that Dartmouth represents." Davida Dinerman '86

"My favorite place is the Moasilauke Ravine Lodge managers cabin in the dead middle of winter with the woods tove going and a few fcwtds to share it." David Hooke '84

A faculty member, a student and an alumna describe theirleast favorite places on campus.