Dorothy Bedford '78
Regarding your November 19 cover story on Dorothy Bedford '78: Like many alumni, the wonderful memories I have of the 250th celebration owe much to her vision, energy, and dedication. In my case, those memories were also shaped by a small but telling gesture that occurred at Reunions last year, near the end of the fireworks display at Poe-Pardee Fields.
My older daughter, who was six at the time, was looking up when the wind shifted our way and blew some cinders into her eyes. Faced with the prospect of waiting in a long line of traffic to get her to a doctor, we opted to accept an emergency-medical technician's offer to take us straight to the Princeton Medical Center in an ambulance. By the time the doctor there examined her eyes and washed away the cinders, it had gotten quite late, and we were anxious to return home after a long day. As we were preparing to leave, Dorothy met us at the entrance to the emergency room. She'd heard about what had happened and had ridden her bicycle to the hospital to make sure my daughter was all right.
After dispensing some 250th badges, posters, and a few sympathetic hugs to both my kids, she hopped back on her bicycle and pedaled off into the darkness toward campus. That one small act of kindness and remarkable attention to detail say much about her tremendous success in organizing the 250th.
Edward Freeland *92
Lawrenceville, N.J.

Ms. Bedford states, "I also like to believe the 250th helped some alumni to accept recent demographic and sociological changes as part of a tradition of change at Princeton -- as a stage in the university's continuing evolution and not as some kind of aberration."
I suspect Ms. Bedford had alumni like me in mind, and I dissent from this too easy, all-embracing judgment. I am willing to consider whether the changes she refers to should be accepted as a desirable part of Princeton's continuing evolution. But I reserve the right to do only that -- to consider the changes. Some changes may be healthy, but some may be mistaken -- "aberrations," if you like. Undesirable change ought not to become a lasting part of the university's beliefs and practices.
A better policy than the one Ms. Bedford suggests would be to consider the benefits and drawbacks of change, rather than simply to "accept" it.
Walt Guzzardi '42
Shelter Island, N.Y.

Dorothy Bedford says, "Many alumni enjoy Reunions, but others -- blacks, Asians, even women -- felt left out...." Many conservatives also feel left out, and estranged from a Princeton that, in the years since I attended the place and loved it, has rejected many of its founding principles.
Neil C. Clements '52
Tucson, Ariz.

"Impossible" gibbon
Bravo to the five students, Professor Dobson, and the Society of Conservation Biology for undertaking the biodiversity survey of Sumatra, Indonesia (Notebook, December 3). However, they certainly would have known that the reported "dark-tailed" gibbon is an impossibility -- gibbons are tail-less apes! Clearly, the species referred to is the dark-handed (or agile) gibbon. The siamang mentioned in the article is also a gibbon, the largest species.

The article also notes that Sterling Forest is in northern New Jersey; the writer might have added that three-quarters of it is in adjacent Orange County, New York.
Guy Tudor '56
Forest Hills, N.Y.

David Billington '50
Thanks for your November 5 story on Professor David Billington '50. I had the opportunity to take his course on Structures in the Urban Environment in what may have been the first year it was offered, and found it so exciting that I asked him to be my thesis adviser. His ability to communicate subject matter across various disciplines is second to none, and it certainly was no surprise to read that his newest course, Engineering in the Modern World, is oversubscribed. Reading the article made me wish I could be back at Princeton taking classes from him again.
Jay Gamze '76
Pittsburgh, Penn.

I regret that during my undergraduate years I never took a course with David Billington. Your article confirms that he is an inspirational educator who has done more than his share to build Princeton's reputation as the world's finest undergraduate institution. He must, however, view with some dismay the timeline of engineering achievements which accompanies the article.
Although the Hoover Dam did indeed "usher in [the] era of giant hydroelectric projects," the picture that accompanies the caption is most certainly not the Hoover Dam. Hoover is an arch-gravity-type dam, with spillways cut into the surrounding canyon and intake ports in front of the dam to accommodate water flowing to the turbines. By contrast, the dam pictured in the time line is a gravity type, in which water flows over the dam. It lacks the majesty of Hoover, which at 726 feet is the highest dam in the United States.
James G. Andersen '84
Wilton, Conn.

Marshall at Princeton
The caption accompanying your December 17 From the Archives photograph states that Secretary of State George C. Marshall first publicly mentioned his plan to rebuild postwar Europe on a visit to Princeton in 1947. I believe that President Truman, not Marshall, actually conceived the idea of massive financial aid to assist the economic and social recovery of Europe. Many historians note that Truman, because of his low popular standing at the time, feared Congress would reject the plan if it were presented with his name attached to it. But Marshall was an icon, so Truman let the plan go forward under Marshall's name. History proves the wisdom of that decision.
Bernard L. Kapell '47
Mountain Lakes, N.J.

Alpheus Mason
Professor Walter Murphy's tribute to Alpheus Thomas Mason was marvelous (Legend, December 3). Mason was more than a great teacher and scholar. He was a warm, thoughtful person who truly liked undergraduates. I am living proof of this.
I left Princeton in June 1942 to enter Navy flight training and returned in November 1945 to continue my education. In the interim, I served as a marine dive-bomber pilot in the Pacific. We lacked many things while stationed on a number of atolls and islands, including serious reading materials and the intellectually challenging discussions they encourage.
Back at Princeton, I enrolled in Mason's course on American political thought. By absolute luck, I had him as my preceptor. He had an office in Nassau Hall. For the first several weeks of precepts, I sat like a bump on a log because I had no idea what I had supposedly read, and the discussion was way over my head. He spotted my reluctance to participate and began to ask me questions I had no idea how to answer. In the third week, he asked me to remain in his office after the precept.
My educational life changed almost immediately. Mason would ask me to read from the Federalist Papers. He would then ask me questions based on the paragraph I had just read aloud. This was during his lunch hour! We followed this procedure for several more weeks, all on his free time, and by the end of the tutoring I was literate in the subject. My grade went from what would have been a sure 6 or 7 (the equivalent of an D or F in today's grading system) to a 2-plus (the equivalent of an A-minus). He was so pleased by my success that he had me take Edward S. Corwin's last course in Constitutional Interpretation; what a grand experience that was. I was also privileged to attend Corwin's wonderful retirement dinner.
When graduation approached, I asked Mason where I should go to graduate school. I wanted to be a teacher/scholar like him, but he did me another great favor by saying I would never make it as a scholar, for I had too many distracting interests. After patiently describing what it took to be a scholar by his standards, he suggested I try law or politics, or both. I have recently retired from Rutgers as a professor of journalism and mass media, with a specialty in American politics. I did the teaching part, but I have never made any pretense about being a scholar in his tradition.
Some years ago I read that Alpheus Mason was about to celebrate his 90th birthday. I wrote him a letter to tell him how much he had meant to me as a person and in my professional career. Mrs. Mason sent me a lovely note saying that she had read my letter to him while he was mortally ill, and he was so appreciative and touched.
I should have written this letter to paw years ago. Being close to teachers like Alpheus Mason makes the Princeton undergraduate experience unique. I have been a fortunate man.
Thomas B. Hartmann '45
Princeton, N.J.

Walter Murphy's profile of Alpheus Mason must have kindled affectionate memories in countless alumni. I was fortunate enough not only to take his course on political theory but also to teach for him in his precepts.
Alph's structuring of American political theory into freedom vs. equality and liberty vs. authority profoundly influenced my own interpretation of American values as presented in my book The American Idea of Success.
In another book, How Professors Play the Cat Guarding the Cream: Why We're Paying More and Getting Less in Higher Education, I welcomed the opportunity to echo the gratitude of his students. As I wrote in the acknowledgments, "Maybe there was a teacher or two who turned us on with a passion for their subject. I had one who announced in the first class that his course was the most important that we would be taking in our entire college career (it was Alpheus T. Mason on political theory, and he may have been right, since events change but theory endures)."
Alph was the best of an ideal rarely realized -- a sound scholar and a stimulating teacher who cared about his students.
Richard M. Huber '45
Washington, D.C.

The article on Alpheus Mason could just as easily have been about Walter Murphy as by him. Constitutional Interpretation, which I took from him in 1984, continues to be the sole course that exerts a lasting impact on me as a person and a professional, notwithstanding that it has no relevance to anything I do. To borrow from Professor Murphy's article: "... nor could anyone escape the contagion of his enthusiasm for ideas and clear thinking about them. Students, colleagues, friends, and foes -- all were infected." I certainly was, and for this I am grateful.
Christopher Bender '85
Arlington, Va.

Diving horses
In your November 19 profile of George Hamid '40, the former owner of the Steel Pier, in Atlantic City, it is evident from his closing remark that he does not hold the memory of the diving horses in very high esteem.
Nor, in 1980, did he hold in high esteem the horses themselves. After they had served his company as an attraction and money maker, no allowance was made for their welfare in the wake of a multimillion-dollar deal with Resorts International.
One of the three horses, Powderface, was sold for slaughter before Cynthia Branigan, who has since become my wife, could arrive at the auction in Shamong Township, New Jersey. As a representative of the Fund for Animals, Cynthia acquired the remaining two horses: Gamal, who remained with her as a companion and equine representative for the Fund for many years, and Shiloh, who still lives on the Fund's ranch in East Texas. More on the plight of these horses can be found in Cleveland Amory's book Ranch of Dreams.
The human performers Mr. Hamid so fondly recalls had their rights to compensation protected by contract. The story would have a brighter luster if he had extended fair compensation and protection to those nonhuman performers who helped make his operation a success.
Charles W. Rissel '75
Fairless Hills, Penn.

In Review
Thank you for the intelligent review of my book A User's Guide to the Book of Common Prayer (In Review, December 3). I question, however, your reviewer's remark about the Prayer Book's "curious parsing of the Lord's Prayer, which reads, 'Thy will be done / On earth as it is in heaven,' rather than 'Thy will be done on earth, / As it is in heaven.'" So far as I can see, the parsing your reviewer calls "curious" has been standard usage in the Prayer Books of the Anglican Communion since 1662. Archbishop Cranmer did locate the commas as your reviewer suggests, but treated the passage as one phrase without capitalization or line break after the comma. I am unaware of any Prayer Book or Bible that gives your reviewer's punctuation. It would have been much more curious if the new Prayer Book had adopted a parsing so completely without precedent.
Christopher L. Webber '53
Sharon, Conn.

Celebrity professors
Having scrutinized the November 19 letter of Professor Stephen F. Cohen regarding Professor John V. Fleming *63's musings on celebrity professors (paw, October 22), I conclude that Fleming is a master cobbler: he has built a shoe and had someone put it on and loudly announce that it fits. It would appear that his shoemaker's needle also serves to puncture stuffed shirts.
I hope for more musings from Professor Fleming, and more of a sense of humor in the politics department.
G. R. Herrin '51
Winchester, Mass.