By now you all know that Provost James Wright will be the new head occupant in Parkhurst. Personally, we like Jim, and look forward to a President with a semblance of Dartmouth heritage. We are, though, made wary by his comments regarding diversity and research at Dartmouth. We were plenty diverse back in '57-without lowering acceptable standards; and Dartmouth is intended to be a liberal arts college, not a research university [sorry, Jim: we were there before you - Ed.]. But let us hope common sense will prevail, and we refer back to Wright's comments at our 30th reunion, excerpted below:

"The image that many have of the decade of the 1950s is of a happy, prosperous, self-satisfied time. As President Eisenhower said, 'Americans are "a happy people," doing exactly what they choose.' Happy Days. Ike and Mamie. 'I Love Lucy.' Jackie Gleason. 'The Bridge on the River Kwai,' 'Gigi,' 'Ben Hur,' and 'The Apartment' at the Nugget. Lou's Restaurant. Mantle and Maris. Aaron and Mays. Ted Williams. Russell and Cousy. Marciano. You came to school humming 'Love Letters in the Sand,' and 'Tammy. You left it twisting to Chubby Checkers' 'Pony Time' and singing Del Shannon's 'Runaway.' ... Mr. Dickey was concerned that the college experience had to liberate human beings so that they could learn and respond for the remainder of their lives. Did Dartmouth prepare you for the [37] years that have followed? Probably not. Selma. Dallas. Hue. Beirut. Teheran. Watergate. ERA. Global warming. Pro-life. Pro-choice. Gorbachev. George Wallace. John Fitzgerald Kennedy. Martin Luther King. Betty Friedan. Malcolm X. John Birch

Society. [OJ Simpson. Saddam Hussein. Dow Jones @ 9000. Oklahoma City. Microsoft Jeffrey Dahmer. Hillary & Bill...]

Could Dartmouth have better prepared you? I doubt it."

"When John Dickey welcomed you to Dartmouth College, Orvil Faubus was telling a group of black high school students that they were not welcome at Central High School in Little Rock. When you were preparing for the first football weekend, the 101st Airborne Division was preparing to accompany those students into their school. In October of 1957 as you were winning the Tug of War. Mathematics Department Chair John G. Kemeny said that 'the high speed digital computers have almost unlimited possible uses.' When you were debating Saturday classes, the Finance Minster from Ghana was refused service at a Howard Johnson's restaurant in Dover, Delaware. July 9,1959, where were you? Two young American soldiers were killed at Bien Hoa. Quiet times. Winter Carnival February 1,1960. Four black students from North Carolina A&T College entered the F. W. Woolworth store on Elm St. in Greensboro and sat at the lunch counter. It was July 25 before they were served. Marines to Lebanon. Fidel Castro. U2. Bay of Pigs. Sputnik. American troops to Vietnam. Alan Shepard. Richard Nixon and John. F. Kennedy. Freedom riders."

"At your graduation, John Dickey reminded you that your education had only begun, and Harris McKee asked you 'How many of us when faced with the choice of right or wrong will make the ethical decision regardless of personal cost?"' Compelling words. Powerful memories. How have they impacted our lives? We look to President Wright for positive impact henceforward.

That being said, now for the news: Gitchy butts to Chicago! June 4-7 draws nigh. This year's feature mini-reunion promises to be splendid, and response should be commensurate; call a classmate and enlist his attendance. CLEVE CARNEY (708/469-0221) & BILL GLENN (708/897-5919) and committee have truly worked long and hard, and there's only one guy in the class who can legitimately say he can't make it because he lives in Kula, Hawaii. Be there or be square [thanks, FATZ...]. Come see if "Ivan Jones" is actually IVAR JOZUS...

Pres. OSCAR ARSLANIAN reports good news: the Development Office in Hanover is excited and willing to support our Performing Arts Endowment class project. More forthcoming, but wanted to announce these tidings herein. BILL FIGILIS <Thefig @ discountpress.com> cards gloomily that "My foundation slipped 8 inches in El Nino. I went to the dentist every day last week. My biggest client, Random House, was sold, and my 2nd largest client, American Family Publishers, had a lousy story on Dateline NBC. I'm going to Italy. PS-I'll be in Chicago at. mini-reunion time: Book Show!" [we warned you guys about the vicissitudes of the publishing racket . Ed.]

BOB FRYER did us the service of typing his green card: "I am alive and well in Weare, NH with my wife of 34 years, Carol (UNH '62). My sole law practice in Londonderry is doing well. Mostly land-use, municipal law, small corporations and 'start-ups,' and some environmental litigation. Carol is an Occupational Therapist and has set up a program for working with parents. of pre-mature infants-having worked as director of an early intervention program for Easter Seals. We have travelled a lot: Australia, New Zealand, and Europe. My passion, second to Carol, is salmon fishing on the Miramichi." Guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree in New Hampshire, but Bob did leave the Granite State long enough to graduate from Duke Law in '64 with SAM BELL and ART KOLA.

PETER HOLBROOK <phol@humboldt.net> keeps in good contact.

Probably too late to tell you about his show at the Lanning Gallery in Sedona, AZ 4/22-5/10, but we hope some of you sun devils will have gone of your own volition. Rev. Rici has Pete's "From Bright Angel Trailhead" hanging in our living room (we'll try to reproduce a copy in this issue); Rici thinks it looks a lot like Waimea Canyon, on Kauai where Peter does some fabulous seascapes. As a fellow artist, he bought two (2) copies of TC's latest [and last] opus I Pai. Anyone else interested? Limited edition of 150.

RUSSELL P HOLMES (617/425-0175) seems proud to announce that "Katherine was born in November-Reagan, her sister, is now two years old. Rose & I live in the Back Bay, Boston-call and stop in-join DOD (Dartmouth Older Dads)." Uh, thanks for the invite, Russ; would love to join your august group, but it's about this, um, "simple outpatient procedure" we underwent some years ago [that, and the thought of six-figure tuition besieging us till we're eighty]... We turned the tables on FRITZ KERN and sent him a postcard; the '98 lsuzu Rodeo is featured on a dealer promo, and photo is the exact model/color of ours. Having retired from Amer. lsuzu Motors, EFK, Jr. quotes, "Thanks for your lovely postcard-I'd rather a Hawaiian sunset! To celebrate the 'new life' I bought an Audi A-6, the best kraut luxo sedan I could find. No more SUVs for this kid for a while! Janis & I yearn for Kauai, and hope to get there this year-but only if we can cross paths with you guys. Survived El Nino so far, and respectfully request you intercept that warm water flow to help guys like Fatz whose property has been lambasted enough in recent years." [we could use some rain, actually. What deluged the mainland has desiccated Maui-and here the Board of Water Supply nazis feel it's their prerogative to wreak punitive measures upon the hapless citizenry when they can't supply enough H20...] Fritz claims he is "still a street person, and loving every minute of it!"

JIM McELHINNEY submits what has to be the class' Harrowing Experience for '98. Seems he & Patty were on a safari with a bunch of other Coloradans when₁ on the bus from the Tanzania Airport₁ they heard what sounded like firecrackers. Someone shouted₁ ^"Gunshots, get down!" the bus slowed and stopped, and Mac felt something "kinda bump my foot.¹¹ Soon there were bandits beating on the windows with large machetes, breaking glass and heisting baggage, and generally behaving.. well.. uncivilized. Soon the brigands were reaching through windows demanding money. Mac offered up his umbrella; a bandit took and inspected it, then reached back in, hit him with it, and threw it back aboard. Jim managed to satisfy them by peeling bills from his roll and donating them individually to the pirates. The brutality escalated, cameras, passports, money, jewelry, even traveler's cheques were commandeered until-at last-a truck came back down the trail from their destination lodge, and the outlaws disbanded.

The bus was pretty much destroyed, and the passengers traumatized. Patty had lost her carry-on bag with her asthma medication and prescription sunglasses -as well as most of her reading material [including BMoon... ?!] Jim's face was bleeding from splintered glass, and he noticed he was having trouble walking. He looked down and saw both shoes full of blood. One shoe was blown apart, as was his big toe at the joint. His right leg was covered with blood. They hobbled the remaining quarter mile to the lodge, and Dr. Mac set about checking and caring for other injured travelers. Finally he went into the bathroom and stripped down to assess his own condition. A bullet had passed through his right calf and hit the big toe on his left foot. The muscle seemed to work OK, so he started to clean up the massacred toe [remember, this guy's an orthopedic surgeon which seemed to have no feeling. "The bullet had taken out the nerve, so no pain! I cleaned up the wound and then went and had some beers."

Realizing he was as experienced with that type of injury as any of the Tanzanian doctors, Mac treated himself in the field for about ten days, then decided to get home for "a formal cleaning up." As of April 14, he reports: "I'm now doing fine. I have had two surgeries on the foot, and several weeks of I-V antibiotics. I have returned to the office, and just started doing surgery again. With all the inactivity, I'm beginning to look and feel like a sausage. That part of Africa was really interesting-animals, natives, and geography, but this is another whole subject." [uh, right, Doc; how 'bout a nice gentle trek to rural Upcountry Maui next time...?]

ROBERT 0. NAEGELE, Jr. never ceases to amaze. Having sold his interest in Rollerblades, he is now leading the movement to bring the NHL back to Minnesota-"the biggest project I've ever been associated with." A mere $220MM start up includes building a New Millennium state-of-the-art 18,500 seat arena in St. Paul. "I have asked myself on more than one occasion: 'Why would I do this?' The answer seems to be, I can't do this, by myself...! have to trust God at every turn; it's to big for me, but ~ too big for us. It needs creativity, talent at all levels, marketing skills, a sense of timing, an ability to not be afraid of Goliath, plus a number of miracles." [And if that isn't testimony for solid faith in the Almighty, somebody better come up with something mighty impressive!] He goes on to praise his son-in-law Greg Hoyt (Punahou classmate of Rand Conger) who's in charge of Special Events for the Minnesota Wild team ("he's like a bee in honey"). Greg put together the NHL's Lester Patrick Awards luncheon for 350 in St. Paul. "Went off without a hitch. The NHL Commissioner, many attendees (veterans of several), and some NHL officials who've been to all, said it was the best one EVER!" [All this, mind you, by a kid raised in Hawaii.. .!] Naegs enclosed photos, and notes " Tentatively won't be in Chicago; I'm scheduled to be in court for a trial to begin June 8. Should that be settled or postponed, we'll probably show. Chicago is great-we go every July...!"

TERRY ORTWEIN <orts@edgenet.net> puts it very succinctly: "Retired to [Charlestown] RI after 34 years of teaching. Writing some (plays, novel)₁ working with community theaters in CT & R1₁ smelling an occasional flower. Same wife and two married kids. Grandfather. Parkinson's. Solvent." We've given his literary accomplishments a plug in this rag previously, and hope that reference to Parkinson's is of minimal impact. Persevere, Terrence! We're pullin' for you.

Geriatric alertist BOB SHEARER admonishes this lowly scribe for abandoning the writing art, adding, "I've been trying for about 5 years to get an academic piece published, and I'm going to continue until I find a &%$#!i** [sic] journal worthy enough. I was ready to can the whole effort a few years ago when, at our 35th, I was (sigh) moved by you, Forester & ilk describing the frustration, rejection, and persistence inherent in publishing. Somebody left something in the office copier a while ago-you know how that can happen; I was about to pitch it but read it instead, took it home, and posted it @ my PC, Here's what it says: You Never Fail Until You Stop Trying. Hang in there, buddy." [Mahalo plenty for the kind words, Bob. Were it not for the relentless series of astounding calamities we experienced with our maiden voyage, we probably wouldn't be "cured" today. May you have far better luck!]

As noted previously, ELLIOT R. SINGER, MD has long been a moving force at the Rye Hospital Center, a private psychiatric facility in Westchester County. He was recently presented a traditional honorary chair in recognition of his 25 years of distinguished service. He is clinical director and president of the medical staff and, presumably, now has somewhere to rest those weary bones after making his rounds. Laurels,  Doc.

Will wonders never cease? Comes a simple green card from RAY WELCH <Xraywelch @aol .com> stating: "Moved from Boston-centric MA to Bristol, RI, a small waterfront town between Providence & Newport. Gail & I both write (mostly ads) from offices in the house. Only one (of 4) daughters still in college-so the cash hemorrhage is starting to abate. I still pole vault regularly, and have had Boris Yeltzin's wife." If memory serves, Ray was the only '61 who left Hanover specifically intending to be a writer, and-by golly-he did it! Since Rev. Ric just got us on the internet, we tendered e-mail to "Xray." Reply (digested): "What ever happened the Great American Novel by Ray Welch? Once I thought my calling was to write a fat book. Lord knows, I had answers to the Big Questions. But not quite enough craft to set it all down right. These days I have ample craft. But not the Big Answers. What are deconstructional dynamics and how do they apply to Moby Dick? How does a multi-dimensional space-time continuum impact free will, and what does that say about clean living? How about those Categorical Imperatives? I've forgotten. Nowadays I deal with smallish questions: What should we name these floppy disks? Or this jeans company? Write our mission statement (even though I think most mission statements are garbage)? The answers come in smallish frames: 30 seconds. FSIs.. A 24-page book, the size of a pack of Camels, whose lead sentence is, 'Most mission statements are garbage...' But memory distills. And even the densest literature may reduce to, 'It was about this sea captain who got pissed off at a whale.' So much for the Great American Novel. I far prefer writing ads and things for other people. And at my day rate, that's okay.

"Winner of over 100 major awards for excellence in advertising, Ray Welch is a copywriter and creative consultant who works out of Boston and Bristol, RI. He's afraid his epitaph will be: 'Here lies the Voice of Tweeter."'

[Ed. note: Xray is so devoted to his trade, he even bought a copy of "8anana Moon "-and its sequel/finale...]

JOHN WHITE <JWhite8Oll@aol.com> wants to inform classmates about The Patriotism Project, temporarily housed at bottom of the page on his web site "The UFO Experience" <http://www. ufoexperience .com> His PatProj. activities in Cheshire, CT have been touted in previous WWWs [has the Internet committed a copyright infraction? We adopted WWW way back in 1961...!], but he'd like to share his views "on a wide variety of topics": "Politically speaking, I am active in the Republican Party but have membership in the Reform Party started by Ross Perot. Philosophically speaking, I am in the conservative wing of Libertarian thought." And, speaking of the wide wide world, John is not much of a roamer-still lives in the same

tiny town from whence he joined us in '57...

Since WWW is compiled on the slopes of Haleakala, we usurp this space to implore the three Phi Cams who haven't yet forwarded any wampum to the Alumni Fund to please do so! Get BLEYLER off my back. Make the Jolly Frat Lodge look good amongst our fellow Greeks. Qualify the ol' Pres. for awards and praise...

Finally, while still in www mode, we ought to advise our e-mail address. This system doesn't work very well, and we can't download anything (yet); but if you wanna send a clever line or two, please spell it out and e-mail to: <tcink@maui.net>

Dass all fo' now. Malama* yourselves. keep in touch.

  *(take care of)