Dartmouth differs drastically from the college my father ('08) and brother
('37) attended, and from the college that I went to as well. It changes year by year even now, as I've had a chance to see from living just off campus for the past decade. Some of our Class never have adjusted to those changes: admission of women, official abolition of the Indian symbol, waffling over ROTC, assaults on the Greek system, diversity policies that seem in practice to translate into study body divisiveness.
To put that into perspective, our Class was all-male, nearly all-white, and composed initially of seasoned veterans, who brought a new seriousness to studying, and wet-behind-the-ears kids fresh out of high school, some as young as 16 on matriculation. It was an uneasy mix from the start. A kid wearing the then-mandated green "beanie" cap could see a vet with whom he'd been walking suddenly prostrate at the sound of backfire. The women indeed were there: GI wives, some with infants too, living on the fringes of campus in what now correspond to Wigwam Circle and the River Cluster.
The war dominated everything in the summer of 1945. One of the country's largest V-5/V-12 units drilled in impeccable uniforms and growing symmetry on the Green while those expecting the draft watched and shot pool on the top floor of Robinson. Some civilians dared to chivvy the "swabbies" lined up for inspection. Revenge was swift on V-J Day in August, as the campus exploded in euphoria and fisticuffs. Next fall, QB Meryll Frost '44, facially disfigured in a flaming aircraft, gallantly led the teenagers through a losing football season (to be redeemed in spades come 1948).
Euphoria dwindled. High hopes were held for the new UN, whose ECOSOC, UNESCO and other agency charters some of us actually studied in all their turgidity. But such events as the Truman Doctrine, another Prague defenestration and the beginnings of the Korean crisis brought us back to earth. And the campus also subsided into traditions like tapping, heeling, and frosh-sophomore rush (now gone), Green Key, Palaeop and all the other "normal" student activities.
We were graduating in a hodgepodge of men assigned then or later to classes from '47 to '49, and it took years to build class cohesiveness. But '49 has melded at last. Its members have excelled, not only in customary business pursuits, but also in the armed services, the arts, athletics, the clergy, education, engineering, finance, journalism, law, literature (a Pulitzer in one case), medicine, public service (including a U.S. senator, a U.S. House representative and a California senator) and science. And our attitude toward admission of women also has softened, due to the acceptance of many daughters and our appreciation of all that women have accomplished here.
Members of our Class have left their munificent imprint liberally around the campus, including: the Leede Basketball Arena, the Rooke Family Reading Room in the Rauner Library, Mark Lansburgh's illuminated manuscript donations to Rauner, Don Scully's share of the new Chase Field complex. And our total 50th reunion gift to the College comfortably exceeds $1 million.
So what hasn't changed? The outgoing Class of '99 has cohesion problems of its own: sheer size that dwarfs the '49's; geographic diffusion and mobility also beyond our experience; the disintegrating factors mentioned here. No Dartmouth class ever graduates without its own baggage. But think of what we both have shared:
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The place. As "our" president, John Sloan Dickey, never tired of stressing, a "sense of place" roots the Dartmouth experience. I spent some years at Harvard and have seen New Haven, New York, Providence, etc. nowadays. Would anyone wish those environments on him/herself as compared to what's here?
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The teachers. We revere our great ones, as '99s must too. In both cases, they weren't just "professors." They taught, were student-oriented and were accessible.
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The openness. The stacks and the minds here are both wide open, for learning and debate. That debate includes even tolerance of views from organizations whose purpose in life seems to be attacking the College's administration.
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The atmosphere. There's an "electricity" in the air here for those who feel it and want to learn, experience and grow. It goes far beyond the classroom and can be sensed by anyone who talks at any length with a '99 - or any Dartmouth student.
Could I have written all those things about HYP? I doubt it. Some things never change.
So, go out proud, '99s. We'll be marching with equal pride at your commencement. All out best until your 50th!
... plus c'est la meme!
