Web Exclusives:
Under the Ivy
a column by Jane Martin paw@princeton.edu
February
25, 2004:
To
fallen friends
Memorials
at PAW are forever
During my tenure as editor of PAW, a tremendous brouhaha developed
after I announced that I would shorten the length of Memorials from
200 words to 150. Poison pens were lifted, coups plotted, tears
shed, hairs pulled, and teeth gnashed, as alumni fretted not only
how they would manage to remember their fallen comrades but, undoubtedly,
how their own achievements would be summed up in such a small space.
(The tumult brings to mind a recent Yogi Berra-ism: "Boy, I
hope I never see my name up there," he whispered to a teammate
last summer as the names of Yankee greats who had died in the past
year were flashed upon the stadium scoreboard.)
However, reading through PAW obituaries from 60 years ago helps
put the concerns in a different light. These memorials are long,
for the most part, yes, but deeply felt. The death of Frank Leonard
Kellogg 1894, for example, recorded in the February 13, 1942, PAW,
was "a great shock to his classmates, particularly those who
had been with him at the Midwinter Dinner only the week before at
which time he seemed in very good health and was his usual cheerful
self." "Popsy," it is added, "was a regular
attendant at all Class Reunions, where his genial and sympathetic
nature assured him a warm welcome."
Some of the memorials are poignant simply on their facts alone:
John K. Culver Jr. '38 died in an automobile accident in January
1942. "With John at the time of the tragic mishap was his wife,
formerly Miriam Beard, to whom he had been married less than two
weeks," the obituary notes. "She also was killed."
The memorial goes on to say that his death was a "profound
shock to his many friends. His ready wit made him the most entertaining
of companions; his sincerity and courage made him the truest of
friends." Similarly, the February 20 issue of PAW describes
the death of Culver's young classmate, Fuller Patterson, "the
first member of our Class to be killed in action. He was killed
in action over German held territory on December 7, 1941."
The obituary quotes from a letter to another classmate, in which
Patterson wrote, "If this is where I get mine, up there where
it is cold and clear, on a battlefield where the dead don't lie
about and rot, where there is no mud and stench, but only a blue
sky above where a man is free and on his own ... if I get mine
up there, there must be no regrets."
Some of the obituaries reveal more about their author than their
subject. The heartfelt memory of Arthur Leonard 1897 was prepared,
it is stated at the outset, by his classmate Dr. Wilfred M. Post.
Dr. Post remembers that he and Arthur were "the best of friends,"
serving together on the Nassau Lit. Arthur, "with his high
literary ideals and his ability to turn out material of excellent
quality on short notice, did not hesitate, as editor-in-chief, to
veto anything he thought unworthy of publication, whether it came
from brother editor or underclassman. Sometimes the experience was
a little humiliating but we respected his judgment and it was good
for us and better still for the Lit." Little surprise, then,
that the two friends' "ways parted after leaving Princeton."
Then there are the magnum opuses of memorials, the epics that
one can imagine the writers struggled over, finding it impossible
to sum up such a great life in any number of words. (These, we imagine,
are the remembrances to which all of us secretly aspire.) Stewart
Paton 1886 earned such a masterwork, a full column on his achievements
as doctor, writer, psychiatrist, veteran, Princeton faculty member,
and man of science. The reverential tone of the memorial begins
in its first paragraph: "To few men is it given to so justify
an appellation of admiration and of affection as it was the good
fortune of Stewart Paton to do. From his youth his comrade had called
him Felix. That he was: in felicity of soul and of spirit; in gentleness
of heart and of mind, with no sacrifice of strength."
Even Yogi might like to stick around to read one like that.
Jane Martin 89 is PAW's former editor-in-chief. You can
reach her at paw@princeton.edu
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