I was asked by some of the members of our class to voice their concerns regarding the removal of the weathervane from Baker Library and the erection of a plaza in the forefront of Dartmouth Row.
He was a farmer. The woods and trees were his milieu. He was a native Vermonter who loved nothing more than to hike the trails and climb mountains, activities in which he participated eagerly until his untimely death.
As I sit here at my window, I am looking out onto a panorama of huge trees emerging from a bed of white snow. Within those woods runs the Appalachian Trail on which, should I be able, which I am not, I could hike right up to Hanover. It is quiet.
It is strange having all of our fall meetings via Zoom. It is yet another fallout, though certainly not the most heinous from our epic battle with the Covid-19 virus.
In these challenging times, Aaron Epstein has found a way to make use of his not unimposing talents. In a very newsy letter he writes that he is no longer reporting on the U.S. Supreme Court or the U.S. Justice Department.
I write this as the hideous pandemic rages on. I hope that when you read this, we have survived this holocaust with a more humane sense of our fellow worldly tenants and a renewed zest for life itself rather a search for its frills.
Dear Dartmouth! How wondrous is it to be celebrating your 250th anniversary with you. You were a mere 180 years old when you warmly welcomed us into your loving arms way back then. And how you have matured since those special times.