The end of the year is always so final, and this year I don't feel that way at all. Maybe I have experienced so many of them that they all seem like one. This year it feels different ... expectations perhaps. Or, how about some warm nostalgia?
In the fall of 1946, 18 years after my father, Wes McSorley, graduated from Dartmouth, I arrived on the Hanover plain, and, if memory serves, I came by bus. A kind soul at the Inn pointed me in the direction of the Dartmouth Outing Club where I met up with 32 frosh who quickly shared some of their anxiety and first impressions of this place called Dartmouth. During that first hour I was informed that our class was the largest ever, and that more than 50 percent of its members were veterans of World War II, Since I was only 17, I could expect to have classmates who were 3-6 years older than me. Is that good or bad? I would find out soon enough. Talk about being pea-green!
Back in those days, the freshman trip was knapsacks, an assault on the Presidential Range, good food, learning all of the Dartmouth songs (including Eleazar Wheelock and 500 Gallons of New England) and as we returned to Hanover by bus, a real sense of belonging.
By the time you read this letter, you will have had several very busy months and hopefully, you're settling in. My Dad always suggested that I get to that phase ASAP. During my first semester, I bussed trays at Commons, tried out for football and struggled with English I and Engineering I.
The Class of 1950 never had any identity problems. We were the first full class after the war wound down in 1945. From the outset, we were mature (if you count all those aging veterans), we were certainly motivated, and since for most of us the stakes were high, we had energy and spirit early on. At the risk of sounding sophomoric, permit me to describe an old tradition an old tradition at Dartmouth: It was called "Rush." The freshman class would line up on the north end of the Green, and the sophomore class on the south. I would estimate that some 800-950 students were on the Green. Some footballs were employed. The object of this highly touted massacre was to throw, kick or run the ball to the opponents end zone.
I don't exactly remember how long we were on the Green. I suspect that 12-15 minutes would have been a lot. Without any equipment, the injuries were numerous and Dick's House was always full after an afternoon scuffle. What I do remember, and members of the class of 1949 will attest to, is that the class of 1950 was the first class ever to win both as frosh and the next year as sophomores. No more beanies for us!
Look around you ... your class has almost an even number of guys and gals. Let me predict something that you have not had the time to think about. After you graduate and after you have attended your 35th, 40th, and 45th reunions, your closest friends will still be from the great class of 2000. Let me assure you, that is where the loyalties are, and will be, for your lifetime.
For these first four years, you will be immersed in your studies, your special interests, and the wide selection that the college offers each student. This is the College giving and you taking. Nothing wrong here, the College designed it that way. The College has two large sources of income, endowment and Alumni giving. Financial aid to students is a very large budget item, and it always will be. The College in its infinite wisdom knows that its graduates dig deep when it comes to gifting. When the time comes, you will know what your share ought to be. No one will tell you, you'll know. The class of 2000 will know it is payback time.
Back to bragging rights ... Source, the January, 1997 issue of Alumni Magazine states that 1950 won the Green Derby in 1996, set a record for classes 46 years out, and has now given the College over $12,500,000 prior to the current Will to Excel campaign. Further, we have given $4,250,000 to the Dartmouth Alumni Fund in as many years. Yes, we're proud, and when your class is knocking down records in the next century, you'll be proud too.
Speaking of the next century, in the second week of June, 2000, the great class of 2000 will be joined by the class of 1950. Your graduation, and our 50th reunion. Whereas we did not have a class to be our mentor, maybe you might wish us to be yours. In the interim, we'll be watching and cheering you all on. If President Dickey were with us, he would do likewise.
I'll close with the last verse of one of my favorites:
See! By the light of many thousand sunsets,
Dartmouth undying like a vision starts.
Dartmouth, the gleaming, dreaming walls of Dartmouth,
Miraculously builded in our hearts.
