Class of 1914
We have this from a Yale man while seated on the eighteenth tee waiting for the inevitable fussy foursome on a hot Saint Swithin's Day afternoon.
It seems that one of our classmates, whom we shall call Zeke Zilch, had been long out of a job, and in the depth of the depression found himself at lunch with a certain Yaler, one of our advertising classmates, and a big advertising manager of national repute. Discussing the unemployment problem, the last mentioned recited his guaranteed formula whereby our classmate should write letters to one hundred industrial tycoons, and under the law of averages, probability, chance, and so forth somebody might fall.
Well, this was done, and the letter most carefully edited by the copy department of a famous agency, set up on the finest paper and sent out. Lo and behold! There were forty-one replies, each from the respective presidents and all indicating, "Pleased tomeet you but very sorry . . ... no can do."
Naturally our classmate was much discomfited. The proponent of the theory was likewise a bit upset. The letter was rechecked and found to be perfect. And weeks went by Comes a particularly dull and raw Saturday afternoon with our hero, drowsing at home, is aroused by the telephone. "Hello, Mr. Zilch? I wasjust going through a lot of old stuff on mydesk and found your letter, and I find thatyou live but a couple of blocks away. I amthe new president of the X Company, justdown from Canada. So, tuhy don't you runover?" And did he run!
The day, you will recall, was toward the end of the late Noble Experiment, and the new neighbor allowed that he had just received a very handsome present from friends in Canada and proposed they should sample same. Of course, by now you have sensed the denoucement. At the end of the third round they were on first names; with the fourth, on plain and fancy anecdotes; and at the finish of round five the tycoon remembered the object of the visit, allowed our classmate was a swell fellow, named a satisfactory starting salary, and he went to work Monday morning. And today he is a prominent executive of the X Cdmpany.
This, dear classmates,, is an object lesson in direct-mail advertising .... or something!
FROM ONE REDHEAD ABOUT ANOTHER
Jack English, the efficient scribe of 'l6, plucked from a local sporting page the news that "The Minneapolis Hockey Teamhas passed into ownership of a group ofbusiness men of this city headed by PaulW. Loudon." Son Robert better mind his checks and blue lines, or papa will spank.
The children's education post card was a great success. What a lot of children we all have, and they are all going to college. In the last paragraph of most every letter Pop and Momma say that they have their noses to the grindstone paying the bills. It was ever thus, but thanks a lot for your many replies, which we shall summarize herewith and in the following months.
We have the most unusual reply of the lot, not from a classmate but about him from his wife, and we give it to you verbatim from Mrs. Paul Hazelton.
"Knowing that my husband will never 'take pen in hand' and write about himself, being a shrinking violet in that regard, I thought I'd answer your card myself.
"We have only one child, Jane, who attends the Briarcliff High School, and is in her junior year.
"As to Paul, having started in the Bank of America in 1930, he decided that knowing something about a bank, except that you can't write checks limitlessly, was important, so he entered and hurdled a four-year course at American Institute of Banking in two and one-half years. In the meantime, the National City Bank took over the Bank of America, and as Paul was in the Corporate Trust Department and the two senior officers of his department were lawyers, he decided that knowledge of the law, while it might not make him a president overnight, might be a little bit helpful in his particular kind of work. So 22 years after graduating from Dartmouth he entered St. John's Law School, in Brooklyn, N. Y., attending classes after the day's work for two winters and three summers—the last six months or so attending even Saturday afternoons, and not only passed all examinations but also passed the New York State bar examinations, and was duly admitted in 1936. He'd get home from school at 9 P.M., study, sleep, and be up at 5 A.M. studying again. (P.S. It wasn't only tough on him—it was also pretty tough on the family.)
"However, it is all over now, and we gad about again like normal human beings. But—the five o'clock idea stuck, and he gets up before the birds and walks across our yard in Briarcliff onto the golf course, and he can be seen playing golf at 5 A.M. any morning, except when the snow is five feet deep. Needless to say, he plays alone.
"Paul's 47 these days, and he says he's going to take piano lessons, and means it. "So you see how it is."
Was our face red when picking up the October issue! There we had gone and bragged about our new found poet, Gail Gardner, and lo and behold! we have two. Walt Humphrey, you have a grand idea. We are for it one hundred per cent, and that jingle was a peach. We hope you start your murals soon and should like nothing better than to sit literally at your feet and hand you up buckets of paint.
TIME OUT! .... or YOUTH MUST BE SERVED
• ... or something. One of our Connecticut boys we hear while playing touch-football with Junior and the neighbor Yale sons had just completed a Kelley catch and was in the clear to make his first touchdown when he stepped into a gopher hole and he faw down and go boom. It was quite impossible momentarily to get up, so he sat there rubbing the throbbing leg. The surrounding teammates began to fidget as the luckless one remained horizontal, and finally huddled for consultation. Breaking away first was Junior, saying: "Dad, you really will have to get upand play or get off the field, or we shall bepenalized for excessive time out."
Bob Hopkins came in yesterday limping a bit, saying in reply to our anxiety that he had pulled a tendon playing touchfootball with the younger set.
You all noticed in last month's issue, I am sure, that Doctor Ralph Carlton Jenkins was inaugurated as president of the Danbury State Teachers College, Connecticut. The affair was an important one, being attended by many educators of national repute, and we offer our congratulations to Ralph on his outstanding promotion.
Rosie Hinman writes he is still continuing his feud with John Burleigh in regard to the Statue of Liberty and wants us to keep him quiet, the bribe being two dollars, check enclosed. Certainly Rosie doesn't know our class agent, to think that two dollars is going to keep John quiet very long. By the way, Rosie's oldest boy is entering Dartmouth this fall and the youngest in four years. He reports that the Rome Strip Steel business is very good and hopes to get around and see some of the games this fall.
Since writing the above we received a newspaper clipping of the release by the publishers of "Henry Barnard—An Introduction." This book is by our above-mentioned classmate, Ralph Jenkins, president of Danbury State Teachers College, collaborating with Miss Gertrude C. Warner, and, according to the advance information, strikes a new note in the theory and practice of American education.
We had an interesting card from John Knoop, who tells us that he has a son and daughter at the University of Wisconsin and two other children still in high school. He says he is farming six hundred acres and specializing in beef cattle, and any of the class is always welcome. If we are anywhere near Troy, Ohio, we certainly will stop around, because at the present price of meat this will be about the only way we could enjoy a piece of steak. Glad to hear from you, John.
Paul Smith, writing from Lebanon, N. H., admits the heresy that his son Kenneth is just entering Yale. Well, perhaps it is a case of too much familiarity, but the best of luck to your son, anyway. Jack McCullough tells us that his daughter Virginia is in the class of 1940 at New York University. Dorothy is at the College of New Rochelle. His son John F. 11l is at Scarsdale High School. Jack reports everybody well and hopes to see a lot of the boys at the Yale game.
Phil Yeaton is still in Florida. His only daughter, Eunice, who attended Florida State College, was recently married to a professor of entomology at the same institution. Phil says he is in his third year as professor of industrial engineering and head of the department, and his eleventh year with the College of Engineering at the University of Florida. He serves on the University Senate and the Committee on Student . Appeals. He is likewise on several civic boards, the most important of which is being in charge of Florida's Industrial Cooperative Plan. Phil sends his best regards to all the boys and hopes to get to reunion sometime.
Fred Campbell writes that his eldest daughter, Anne, is planning to enter Bryn Mawr next year. His eldest son, Fred Jr., hopes to be in the class of '44 at Dartmouth, and Sally, age 8, is just enjoying life.
Charles O'Connor is now settled down in Belmont, where his daughter Carol is in the junior high school. His son Robert is at Worcester Academy and hopes to enter Dartmouth next year.
Baldwin writes from Millington, N. J., that he has been with the Firemen's Insurance Company at 10 Park Place, Newark, where he is assistant secretary of the concern. He says things are pulling along, and he sends his best regards to all.
Bob Munson lives in Richmond, Va., where he represents the C. B. Dodge Company of Westport, Conn. He has a son, Robert Jr., at the Berkshire School in Sheffield, Mass. He says he thoroughly enjoys the Dartmouth Alumni Association of Virginia, but regrets he is the lone wolf of 1914 and hopes some of the boys will call him up at 5005 King William Road.
Hod Potter isn't coming up to the Harvard game this year, trying to break the jinx of having been in two automobile accidents the past two years on return from the game. Hod reports a pleasant visit from Jack Field a few weeks ago and wonders what has become of Saltmarsh. Hopes that he hasn't given up fishing. In the last paragraph Hod weakens and thinks of making an automobile trip to Hanover for the Cornell game, and here's hoping he gets home safely.
Paul O'Leary, writing from the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minn., says his children are still in the local school and not yet old enough for college. As for himself, he is still in charge of the department of dermatology and syphilology at the Clinic.
Rufe Sisson reports from Potsdam, N. Y., that his daughter Virginia has attended Sweet Briar College in Virginia, has been spending a year studying music in Europe, and is now finishing out her work at the Potsdam State Normal School with the intention of taking up teaching. His two sons, Dale and Jack, are both headed for Dartmouth. Rufe says that paper-making is a tough racket and either a feast or famine, but like the Biblical allusion, the seven years of famine have passed and now things are looking better. Rufe says that Potsdam is on a direct line to and from the Adirondacks, and he issues a cordial invitation to every classmate who gets up that way, offering to supply golf, hunting, and fishing at a moment's notice.
Red Ramage says that now he has settled down in South Hadley he has more or less affiliated himself with Mount Holyoke, merely because he doesn't have to worry about their football games, and likewise it keeps him away from Yale propaganda. He was a little disappointed that after three years' residence there no senior class has given him much of a tumble. He is discouraged and disappointed that three such classes have graduated and no play. He reports Johnny Hazen and Ted Main both well and happy and sassy, and admits the same for himself.
Hal Bowman reporting from Hempstead, N. Y., says his son Richard is a sophomore at Dartmouth and enjoying it immensely. His daughter Meredith is a sophomore at high school.
Voz Lyons, using a lot of unknown words, will have to report for himself: "Not having any offspring, I cannot enumerate their glories. Here are my presenthospital and university connections if thatis of any interest I a?n attendingneurologist at (i) the Vanderbilt Clinic,(2) the Neurological Institute,New York, (3) the City Hospital, NewYork. I am consulting neurologist at (z)the Englewood Hospital, New Jersey, (2)the Broad St. Hospital, New York. I am instructor in clincal neurology at ColumbiaCollege of Physicians and Surgeons, andinstructor in neuro-anatomy at the Colutnbia Dental School. As you may have guessedby now, I specialize in the diseases of thenervous system. Best of luck "
Red Davidson, after reporting on his two small children, tells us about a week spent in Nova Scotia and motoring back through New Brunswick, Maine, and other New England states. He says he spent five years in Hanover and never saw the top of Mount Washington, so he made the trip this year and found it just as hot at the summit as at the base. He played some lousy golf in Hanover and otherwise enjoyed himself generally.
The assassination of Ted Marriner comes as a great shock and with a sense of loss to the entire class. Of course, it was only through the press that we learned of his variftus movements and honors, for Ted was too modest to talk about himself. The statements in the public press from the highest officials amply describe this phase of his career.
Perhaps you will recall Ted was our first class secretary, and when he couldn't get in the army he decided to do a bit for the class by trying to keep track of the members, a very trying piece of work. Ted assiduously read the newspapers for news of 1914 men. He made trips to Hanover and to army and navy camps. He inquired from every 1914 man he met the whereabouts of his classmates, and the class report he got out on his entrance in the diplomatic service represented much hard work and time. He told me about this sitting on the Commons steps at our Tenth Reunion and said he always regretted that he hadn't been in this country longer to carry on as class secretary, a work which he thoroughly enjoyed. Not so long ago he wrote of his hopes to be in Hanover in 1939 and told of his continued interest in class and college activities in general. His passing is thus a distinct loss to his classmates, to the College, and to the diplomatic service of the United States.
Secretary, 367 Boylston St., Boston
