Class Note 1965
Issue
Nov - Dec 2015
One of the pleasures of the 50th was connecting with people I hadn’t seen in years. In particular, it was a treat to run into Brown Hall dormmates John Ferdico, Steve Shaul, Carl Seager, my frosh roommate, Kris Greene.
My freshman year at Dartmouth was certainly the toughest time in my academic life, and I see in retrospect how important that first group of classmates was to my time at Dartmouth. Coming as I did from a public high school that was, ahem, one of those that made the upper-90 percent possible, thrust into “Calculus I,” finding that my dormmates were one, possibly two, years ahead of me academically was very hard. Noel Perrin, my “English 1” professor, looked at my first paper, shook his head sadly, then brightened and said, “Mr. Rogers, I hope I can help you master the mother tongue.” I spent a lot of time that year with my nose to the grindstone.
This reminiscence was prompted by Kris Greene mentioning Brown Hall in Scott Meacham’s book, The Campus Guide: Dartmouth College, an Architectural Tour. Scott ’95 is Tom Meacham’s son. Kris wrote, “The living rooms in the suites were so underutilized that they have been turned into additional bedrooms! How sad. I thought we spent a lot of time there.” Yes, those rooms were forums for serious discussions, bull sessions and, umm, put it this way—one February we contemplated jamming towels under the door to make the place watertight, then laying down an inch or so of water, leaving the windows open to provide ourselves a very small skating rink. I think that remained one of those ideas that died after the conversation veered toward how to get a ride to Skidmore for the weekend.
Kris also wrote that he and Joan gave up ocean cruising several years ago, noting, “the definition of cruising is ‘fixing your boat in exotic places.’ ” He continued, “Lately Joan and I have been camping with a 20-foot RV trailer, which is also fun and doesn’t require crawling around in the bilge or going up a 60-foot mast. We don’t go away for the winter these days, however, and have been enjoying Vermont year ’round. Joan has been organizing a 50th reunion for her class of the Mary Hitchcock Memorial Hospital School of Nursing.” (They didn’t meet until both attended Penn.)
I am going to be prodding some of you to gather those freshman friends and tell me your dorm stories. We can start with Steve Waterhouse’s Fayerweathergang, then possibly Weaver Gaines, who may be coerced into taking time out from nurturing an early-stage biotech to gather those long-ago thoughts from a cadre of intrepid members of Massachusetts Hall. Then how about you?
Finally, sadly, we have learned that Michael Merritt passed away. An obituary will run online.
—John Rogers, 6051 Laurel Ave., #310, Golden Valley, MN 55416; (763) 568-7501; johnbairdrogers@comcast.net
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My freshman year at Dartmouth was certainly the toughest time in my academic life, and I see in retrospect how important that first group of classmates was to my time at Dartmouth. Coming as I did from a public high school that was, ahem, one of those that made the upper-90 percent possible, thrust into “Calculus I,” finding that my dormmates were one, possibly two, years ahead of me academically was very hard. Noel Perrin, my “English 1” professor, looked at my first paper, shook his head sadly, then brightened and said, “Mr. Rogers, I hope I can help you master the mother tongue.” I spent a lot of time that year with my nose to the grindstone.
This reminiscence was prompted by Kris Greene mentioning Brown Hall in Scott Meacham’s book, The Campus Guide: Dartmouth College, an Architectural Tour. Scott ’95 is Tom Meacham’s son. Kris wrote, “The living rooms in the suites were so underutilized that they have been turned into additional bedrooms! How sad. I thought we spent a lot of time there.” Yes, those rooms were forums for serious discussions, bull sessions and, umm, put it this way—one February we contemplated jamming towels under the door to make the place watertight, then laying down an inch or so of water, leaving the windows open to provide ourselves a very small skating rink. I think that remained one of those ideas that died after the conversation veered toward how to get a ride to Skidmore for the weekend.
Kris also wrote that he and Joan gave up ocean cruising several years ago, noting, “the definition of cruising is ‘fixing your boat in exotic places.’ ” He continued, “Lately Joan and I have been camping with a 20-foot RV trailer, which is also fun and doesn’t require crawling around in the bilge or going up a 60-foot mast. We don’t go away for the winter these days, however, and have been enjoying Vermont year ’round. Joan has been organizing a 50th reunion for her class of the Mary Hitchcock Memorial Hospital School of Nursing.” (They didn’t meet until both attended Penn.)
I am going to be prodding some of you to gather those freshman friends and tell me your dorm stories. We can start with Steve Waterhouse’s Fayerweathergang, then possibly Weaver Gaines, who may be coerced into taking time out from nurturing an early-stage biotech to gather those long-ago thoughts from a cadre of intrepid members of Massachusetts Hall. Then how about you?
Finally, sadly, we have learned that Michael Merritt passed away. An obituary will run online.
—John Rogers, 6051 Laurel Ave., #310, Golden Valley, MN 55416; (763) 568-7501; johnbairdrogers@comcast.net