Dartmouth Club of New York
LOOKING OVER the guest register at the Club we're reminded of the story of the hillbilly who came into town and surrendered himself to the sheriff. The sheriff said, "Lord O'mighty, Joe, what you been and done?" "I shot my son-in-law," was the answer. "What'd you shoot him for," pursued the sheriff. "Well," said the native, "he wa'n't my son-in law when I shot him."
There wa'n't hardly any Club when Hank Haserot '10, the pineapple tycoon and Art Portman '15, first started to make the Club on 38th Street their headquarters when they visited New York on business. Now they've transferred their allegiance to the new Club which according to Nat Burleigh's 1911 notes in the last issue of the ALUMNI MAGAZINE moved Stan Macomber '11, to expressions of admiration for the Club house and despair that the Boston crowd had nothing to match it. Can it be that the center of the Dartmouth population has swung away from New England?
Sitting around the Club the other night we were reminded of the founding of the Dartmouth College Band. Up to the fall of 1909, the Indian tribes marched into the Stadium accompanied by only such hit or miss outfits as could be picked up in Boston's Tin Pan Alley. These helterskelter musicians were as likely to burst into "Auf Wiedersehen" as anything else. Herman Dillingham '09, was at that time a competent cornet player as well as an aspiring center on the football squad. In solemn truth his tooting was slightly the better accomplishment. He organized the first Dartmouth College Band, passed the hat with the benison of the administration for uniforms and led his cohorts to Cambridge that fall. The embryo Dorseys, Goodmans et al of the present college generation might raise a statue to St. Herman in the recesses of Bartlett Hall, for he was their daddy.
The New Year's Eve Party at the Club brought out over 150 celebrants for the festivities—which as a matter of fact lasted far into the morning hours. Some of our older and most highly respected members found the welcome so warm that they refused to leave until the chill dawn had given way to a January sunrise. Josh (Goggleinski) Davis, Doc Pullen, Terry McGaughan, Pete Howe, Walter Fitzpatrick, and T. H. Haskell were among those who entertained large parties.
December hit the peak of Club activity so far, even surpassing the number of people entertained and the total business done during the halcyon football month of November. Warren Agry had a lunch for 20, Roger Bird and Mrs. R. H. Whitney gave dinners, Jim Heenehan brought the Harvard Bar Association for dinner, Spider Martin lunched a large group, Dr. Wesley Hunt likewise in addition to the functions noted in the last issue.
Meanwhile the 1939 program keeps rolling along with class dinners, lunches and private parties of various kinds already scheduled. Many of these, for the benefit of visiting firemen who may be in New York during February or any other month, are arranged for the same dates each month. The class of '14 for example will have their February dinner on the 15th, the classes of '24, '25 and '26 on the 17th. If you're coming this way why not write the Club, not only for reservations but also for information about what is going on?
And don't forget this! During the World's Fair hotel space in New York not only will be hard to find, but you'll also discover that the canny inn-keepers will add a dollar or more to the price of their rooms. A few days of that extra tax will more than equal the small non-resident dues. Membership in the Club will have definite advantages. You can find here a place to rest your weary feet, to eat remarkably good food amid pleasant and congenial surroundings at the most reasonable prices in town, cash checks, get impartial information about what to see and where to go. These services for you and your family you'll probably appreciate more when you lack them than when you contemplate them. But here's chance for foresight, rather than hindsight. The Club will welcome you as a visiting Dartmouth man of course, but its services must naturally be limited to its members.
