This month I asked the question, “If you could invite anyone for dinner, who would you invite?” Tom Flannery said, “Donald Trump…but since he probably wouldn’t accept, I’d choose James Madison.” Rob Dressler “would love to share a dinner (and drinks) with Ben Franklin, a brilliant and creative thinker who also liked to have a good time.” Pat Horgan wants “dinner with George Washington—I’d like to find out what they really expected would happen with America and give them some feedback about what actually has happened!” Paul Leach would choose Alexander Hamilton and encourages us all to “read Chernow’s biography and the Federalist Papers.” John Isaacs wants to invite Abraham Lincoln, since he was “brilliant, bold, shrewd, far-sighted, and savior of the country. His wife, however, is not invited.” Gary Atkins says, “Abraham Lincoln. I would ask him how he had the patience to manage the challenges and crises throughout the Civil War…while maintaining the conciliatory and hopeful outlook that is so inspiring, as seen in many of his addresses and speeches. Not only is that fractious period of our American history an important one, but the lessons are still so very relevant this day.” Sam Ostrow also says “No issue for me—Abraham Lincoln. But if not an historical figure, then my father.” Bob Smith would invite “my maternal grandfather. He grew up in poverty, attended Dartmouth (class of 1901), the Harvard Divinity School, and then became a Unitarian minister. He was an intellectual and a progressive thinker whose last book was a biography of William Jewett Tucker. He died when I was a teenager. I would love to have an opportunity to listen and learn.” Craig Jackson “would want to share a dinner with my father. He died when I was 13. I had too little time with him and it would be special to have an adult conversation with him now.” Ken Clark “would like to have a final dinner with my father. He died in 1993 while I was on a plane returning home to see him one final time to say goodbye. I would love to tell him that he was my moral compass and that I appreciated his guidance and support throughout my life. He was a good man and a great mentor. He was nonjudgmental and a great role model. I still hear his voice when I need to make difficult decisions. Thanks, Dad.” Ellis Regenbogen says: “My dad, who died at the very early age of 69. He was a simple man, but one who could walk into a room of people he did not know, introduce himself, and have a friendly conversation. I believe there is something in our admiration for our folks, who didn’t in many cases have the opportunity for an educational experience such as ours, that tells us the educational experience is only part of the equation.”

You’ll find more of these submissions in the next issue and can read them all unedited on our website, 1967.dartmouth.org.

—Larry Langford, P.O. Box 71, Buckland, MA 01339; 1967damnotes@gmail.com