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Original Issue


These are the men the judges chose: 25 football players of 25 years ago who have made much of their lives and today serve their fellow citizens in law, medicine, the military, politics, advertising, banking, movie making, and in many other ways

Like the Silver Anniversary men of previous years, the men of 1934 were consistently among the outstanding all-round men on their campuses. But unlike their predecessors, who on graduating felt the full weight of the Depression, the men of 1934 were caught up in the swing of recovery. The men who went before them for the most part had to latch on to the first jobs that came their way. The men whose careers are detailed below and on the following pages could generally start in the field of their choice. Their average starting salary was just over $1,000. Twenty-five years later their average income is close to $50,000 a year, and they are working an average of 65 hours a week to earn it. All love their work, and money appears to be very much a secondary incentive. All are married, with an average family of three children.

At first glance, they would seem to have little else in common. But when they contemplate their lives to assess what has proved of value, they jell into an unusually single-minded group. All hold with conviction to the ideal of the well-rounded man and to the singular importance of a basic liberal arts education. All believe, to varying extents, in the value of football as a molder of effective and courageous young men. Even the scientific men among them dislike the "mere egghead" and the "narrow specialist."

They consider themselves today as sports-minded as they were in college, and almost all of them share this active interest with their families. Most of them are golfers and hunters, with other interests ranging from antique furniture refinishing to mushroom hunting.

Here they are in vignette:

Don Hutson automobile agency, Racine, Wis.
When Don Hutson, possibly the most gifted pass catcher ever to play college football, joined the pro ranks the Green Bay Packers' management considered his salary so unheard-of that they swore him to secrecy and paid him by two weekly checks. They came to $300 a game. Today both pro football and Don Hutson have come a long way. "I loved football," recalls Hutson in his soft Arkansas drawl, "but all my life I wanted to be in business for myself and I used football toward that goal." The man who caught 489 passes for 8,010 yards in his 11 pro years was too busy this fall to see a single game; there was always a sales conference, a directors' meeting at the bank or a community chore to be attended to. It is a busy, constructive life whose rewards—a 7 handicap at the country club, a substantial home and a large income—Don Hutson savors fully.

Partner, Breed, Abbott and Morgan, New York City
Ken DeBevoise is his law firm's respected specialist in federal business legislation, a knotty tangle of decisions by courts and federal agencies, the unraveling of which, on behalf of such clients as Owens-Illinois Glass and Armco Steel, has led him to argue before the Supreme Court. For many years a member of the Montclair, N.J. school board and a life trustee of Amherst, he has been intimately concerned with education almost since he left college. He believes football has a proper role in education, and he confesses to "all the old truisms: football builds character, teaches teamwork and initiative. It sounds corny, but it really is true." Like many of his generation, DeBevoise has become fascinated by professional football at the expense of the college game. He keeps a spectator's eye on Amherst and on his son's prep school sports performances for Deerfield Academy.

Nuclear fuels chemist, Richland, Wash.
As a boy in Lisbon Falls, Maine, where his father still owns the family grocery store, stocky Bob Anicetti had two driving ambitions: to become a college football player and a scientist. Both his ambitions were fully realized. He became a topflight running guard on Bates teams that held their own' against Harvard, Yale and Dartmouth, then went on to earn a doctorate at MIT. A gifted, intense but unassuming chemist whose powers of concentration often lead him past his own doorstep, his nose buried in work, Anicetti worked on the Manhattan Project during the war and is now absorbed in the development, production and testing of plutonium fuel elements at the Hanford Atomic Projects Operation. In a life devoted to science, Anicetti has allowed himself very few luxuries: he went until 1949 without owning a car, loves music but finds "super hi-fi" too expensive.

Dean of Men, U. of California at Berkeley
Twenty-five football seasons ago, Arleigh Williams, a 158-pound tailback, pounded the center of a rugged Stanford line. "That game had everything you could ask for," recalls Williams. "Everything except victory." Stanford won 9-7, and the Cal tailback went on to become assistant football coach at neighboring Richmond Union High, then dean of boys. Williams took to the dean's job immediately: "I like working with boys and have a good ear." Two decades later, Williams was back at California as dean of men, a highly important job at one of the world's largest universities. Into Dean Williams' office have filed thousands of students. He does not believe that boys have changed over the past quarter century. "There are different techniques and more knowledge nowadays," he says, "but basically the problems are similar and they require a firm, just touch."

Vice-President, Columbia Pictures International, London
All his life Mike Frankovich, an Angeleno of energetic and buoyant temperament now living in England, has liked to do half a dozen things simultaneously and do them well. As an undergraduate he was the star quarterback on the UCLA team, captained the baseball squad, was considered an outstanding student. Later he played professional baseball, wrote movie scenarios and became a notable sports radio commentator. All this led to producing pictures for the Columbia studio. After the war Colonel Frankovich moved his family to Europe, independently produced a number of pictures, now is managing director in Europe for Columbia Pictures. A not unusual day sees him drive his Rolls-Royce to lunch with Prince Philip, catch a Paris plane to arrange the release of a new Elizabeth Taylor picture, return to his private screening room in the country to do his homework.

President, Up-Right Scaffolds, Berkeley, Calif.
When Wallace Johnson is tired he jumps in the pool for a long swim or canters on horseback across his 600-acre ranch. "What refreshes me," he explains, "is a change of activity." As president of a rapidly expanding manufacturing concern and a dedicated community leader, he tackles a wide variety of activities. The Up-Right firm pioneered in the use of lightweight, portable scaffolding, has recently opened new plants in the U.S. and sends its products to virtually every country in the free world. A clever 145-pound quarterback at Caltech, Johnson is a strong proponent of collegiate athletics for all students. "Even a busy science student," he declares, "is not hindered in the least by participation in college sports, providing he gets enough sleep and is in reasonably good health. In fact, it's a real advantage to feel the urge of competition and the need for teamwork."

Senior Vice-President, Morgan Guaranty Trust, New York City
Twenty-five autumns ago Ellmore Patterson, backing up a light Chicago line against mighty Minnesota, got clobbered with frightening regularity, finally was helped to his feet with a cracked rib by opponent Pug Lund, today a fellow award winner (see page 108). Patterson, the outstanding scholar-athlete of his class, likes and believes in contact sports: "All your life you're butting your head against something." After graduation Patterson joined J. P. Morgan & Co., now manages the Midwest, Southwest and Canadian commercial interests of the newly merged Morgan Guaranty Trust, the nation's fifth-largest bank. He has been able to blend happily exceptionally demanding business, philanthropic and community responsibilities with an active family (five boys) that spends as much time together as possible water skiing, playing tennis, golf and intramural bridge.

Judge, Superior Court of Connecticut, Hartford, Conn.
On the bench Joe Bogdanski is gentle in manner, soft and deliberate in speech. It is only when he gestures with his hands, which are the large, muscular hands of a pass catcher, that his football heritage becomes apparent. Football and juvenile delinquency are Bogdanski's "pet subjects," and he is eloquent on the use of sports to help children. It was on the football field at New Britain (Conn.) High School that he met Abe Ribicoff, now the governor of Connecticut, whose politics Bogdanski has successfully made his own for many years. He ran for Congress in 1950, was narrowly defeated, has risen since through lower courts to his present seat on the Superior bench. He keeps as closely in touch with college football as he does with state politics and on a Sunday he likes to take his family hunting mushrooms in the pine stands near his Meriden home.

Headmaster, The Holderness School, Plymouth, N.H.
When Donald Hagerman became the first lay headmaster in The Holderness School's 80-year-history, he brought with him a firm belief in the value of competitive sports. "Competitive athletics," the headmaster says, "are essential in the development of leadership. Aside from their value as a conditioner, they produce intangibles—the mind becomes a bit sharper and the ability to stand up under pressure is developed." A durable guard and dependable place-kicker, Hagerman spent one year with the New England Telephone & Telegraph Company, then taught at Deerfield and Tabor before accepting his present position. Since then the enrollment has doubled and an ambitious building program is under way. Hagerman is an ardent skier, and the school now has its own slope and 30-meter jump, numbers three Olympic skiers among its alumni.

Football coach, Ohio Slate University, Columbus, Ohio
To Woody Hayes football is more than a game; it is a way of life, a microcosm of the world at large. In college, he maintains emphatically, a boy's "single greatest educational experience is the football he plays. As long as they are bona fide students, the college academic standards are not in jeopardy." Irascible and outspoken, Coach Hayes works tirelessly for excellence and success in The Game, tells friend and foe alike: "We believe in winning above everything else. That's the only reason we play." On autumn weekends, his day begins at 8 a.m. on both days, rarely ends before midnight, but ex-Lineman Hayes would not want it any other way. Aside from football, his only real interest is children. He has headed numerous Columbus funds for crippled and retarded youngsters, and will make speeches or hospital visits on their behalf any time, any place.

Orthopedic surgeon, Atlanta
Quiet, unassuming Ernest Dunlap has never lost his enthusiasm for sports. Now an 80-hour-a-week orthopedic surgeon, he maintains a sporting program that would put many a professional athlete to shame: he plays golf and tennis, bikes and swims regularly, rides horseback, fishes, hunts. He reads the sports pages voraciously, keeping tabs on the boys whose ills and injuries he tends as official Atlanta high school physician. Once a week Dr. Dunlap holds a crippled children's clinic in Albany, makes arrangements to bring the youngsters to Atlanta for surgery if needed. He sandwiches his daily office hours between hospital and clinic assignments. An accomplished violinist and would-be violist, he scorns the mechanically minded, "always tired" modern age: "It's about time people built a little physical reserve. Athletics teach you to conserve strength as well as spend it."

President, Coca-Cola Bottling Co. of Ohio, Columbus, Ohio
John Brown decided to go out for football for the first time as a high school senior in order to win a college athletic scholarship. He succeeded, and Georgia has never regretted it. John Brown proved a first-rate guard who was to become a successful businessman and a much-decorated tank battalion commander. During his freshman year the rules allowed opponents to be struck with the open hand and he bruised the varsity so consistently that they finally broke his arm in self-defense. Starting as a $1,200-a-year traveling representative for Coca-Cola, he later moved to Lansing, Michigan and became an avid follower of the football fortunes of Michigan State. Now settled in Columbus, Brown buys season tickets to Ohio State games but rarely has time to attend. "I've never even met Woody Hayes," he says sadly. "But Woody has managed nicely without me."

E. Davis Wilcox Associates, architects, Tyler, Texas
Tyler is a community of some 53,000 people, most of whom spend a part of their lives in buildings designed by fellow townsman Dave Wilcox, a square-faced, white-haired architect who prefers to call himself a "designing engineer." "I like a small town," says Wilcox, "because you're helping to shape your community. This is so important a challenge you have to be good all the time." That the schools, municipal buildings, churches, banks and homes Wilcox has designed are good is attested by a number of professional awards. Wilcox likes to keep his staff small, spends 55 hours a week on the job, mainly with clients and contractors. He was only the second architectural graduate to play varsity football at Georgia Tech, and he recalls its main lessons as "having to suffer a little—there is a challenge and hardship there not normally to be found in other college activities."

President, Compton Advertising, New York City
In his large, uncluttered office, rangy Bart Cummings is a relaxed figure. He sits in shirtsleeves and bow tie, speaks warmly of football and fly-fishing and seems far removed from the strongly competitive advertising business. But competition is a highly operative word with Cummings: in football, in studies, in business, it is to him the element that shapes and hones a man's character. "I believe in stretching a boy's capacities while he's a student. Competitive situations create their own discipline," he says. After three seasons as a standout tackle and end at Illinois, Cummings joined his father's advertising agency in Rockford, Illinois. He came to New York after the war and was named president of Compton at 41. Under his leadership, the agency has climbed to "about 12th" in billings, is held in esteem as an industry innovator and developer of young advertising men.

President, S. H. Kress & Co., New York City
To George Cobb the past quarter century has meant relentless hard work in a fast-changing field and the rewards of rising from an $18-a-week trainee to a six-figure salary as president of one of the country's largest variety-store chains. A reticent, hardheaded New Englander, he gives 65 hours a week to his job, has almost no leisure time and is almost constantly on the wing between New York and his company's regional offices. Pressed to recall the autumn 25 years ago when he played center on an aggressive Maine team he allowed: "It makes you reminisce a bit. Football to me was the best of sports. The way we played it was fun and it had its very proper place in education. They still play it that way in New England. Football is an instructive sport. When you get your brains knocked out you're bound to see yourself in a little different light."

U.S. Representative, Grand Rapids
As center and linebacker on Michigan's 1934 aggregation, "Junie" (because he darted around the football field like a June bug) Ford was an understandably angry young man: the vaunted Wolverines were losing consistently. Named Michigan's most valuable player that sorry season, he went on to Yale as line coach and part-time law student. From then on, it was all wins, no losses. A thriving law practice in the Grand Rapids area led, in 1948, to his election to a congressional seat he has yet to relinquish. Ford is the ranking Republican member on the Subcommittee on Defense Appropriations and a member of the GOP House policy committee. But his Washington workload is light compared to the 80-hour weeks of drumbeating he puts in when Congress is not in session. "My job has too many hours," Ford admits, "but I enjoy it. I wouldn't do anything else."

Governor of Vermont
After an unusually brief political apprenticeship by Vermont standards, Republican Robert Stafford, 46, last year became the 74th (and second-youngest) governor of his state. Since then he has won a reputation as a "strong" governor by the skill with which he has steered his liberal legislative program through the Assembly. Stafford, a lawyer in private life, served Navy hitches in both World War II and Korea. His immediate concern is preparing for a special session of the legislature next month to consider the "critical" highway-financing program. As an able politician with a very bright future he has almost no free time. What leisure he has is spent with his four-daughter family and in playing tennis and skiing. But one Saturday this fall ex-Tackle Stafford slipped away and watched his college beat Vermont, to conclude its most successful season in many a year.

Major General, USAF
As commander of the Lackland Air Force Base, where all airmen (92,000 last year) must start their service careers, Robert Stillman, the first man of his class to attain general officer rank, is part businessman, part public-relations expert, part flyer and, by inclination, a full-time educator. "American youngsters need to hurt a little, to get really pooped, to be occasionally worked to a frazzle," he explains. Because such pressures are not a part of the normal educational routine, Stillman considers football invaluable: "It is the anvil on which you hammer out character." No spit-and-polish martinet, General Stillman is a rugged, alert combat commander (and former commandant at West Point), whose favorite sport, as a matter of fact, happens to be squash racquets and whose personal definition of a middle-aged athlete is a bowler whose average exceeds his golf score.

Insurance executive, Minneapolis
As a triple-threat halfback on Bernie Bierman's powerhouse, Pug Lund was everybody's All-America, a fierce competitor who could do everything. "You might break him in two," said Bierman, "but you couldn't stop him." Highlight of the Gopher season was Lund's touchdown pass against Pitt which boosted Minnesota to a 13-7 victory and the national championship. With the game tied in the closing minutes, Lund took a lateral from Quarterback Glenn Seidel on a razzle-dazzle play and fired 18 yards to End Bob Tenner, who crashed into the end zone. Lund considers his years of football "the finest experience of my life but not an end in itself." Now a general agent for New England Mutual Life in the Minneapolis area, he has retained his competitive drive, sets a goal of one new client a week. He backs alumni activities but shuns involvement in all football politics.

Captain, USN
This time of year, as he puts a new ship and a new crew through their seagoing paces, the thoughts of Slade Cutter are very much with football, especially with Naval Academy football, over which he presided as athletic director until recently. Slade Cutter is a big man, an articulate and outspoken man, an outstanding wartime submarine commander (four Navy Crosses) and a convinced proponent of big-time football. "There was a time," explains Cutter, "when I questioned whether you could maintain high academic standards and at the same time play big-time football. Now I know it can be done, but it's hard. You can dig both out of a boy who has the talents. Notre Dame does it." To Slade Cutter, the man whose 1934 field goal defeated Army for the first time since 1921, the ideal of excellence through competition is a most important fact of life.

President, Natl. Bank & Trust Co. of Fairfield County, Conn.
Husky, vigorous Ben Blackford was a 205-pound end for a St. Lawrence team that battled such larger schools as Cornell and Colgate. "We had about 12 good players," Blackford recalls, "and there was no question of your leaving the ball game. I think I was substituted for about once a season." Now 15 pounds heavier, he has never abandoned the sound-mind, sound-body principle: "Business is a rough game physically, and in football I learned the importance of staying in shape. In business today you don't go anywhere if you lack vigor and determination." Despite the pressures of banking and other business responsibilities, Blackford serves as a trustee of St. Lawrence and the Williams College School of Banking. Now that he has hauled his sailboat out of the water, cleaned and put away his golf clubs, Blackford increases his daily walking stint to keep trim.

Brigadier General, USMC
In the '30s, the Marine Corps each year offered regular commissions to three of Texas A&M's top honor students. "Dog Eye" Conoley, a beefy but highly mobile running guard, accepted happily, and began his career as a Marine lieutenant and football player at San Diego, saw subsequent service in China. Sent to the Pacific in 1942, he led his troops through some of the bitterest engagements of that theater, earned the Navy Cross in the Solomon Islands and the Silver Star at Cape Gloucester. Now assistant division commander of the Second Marine Division at Camp Lejeune, Conoley tackles rugged maneuvers with a leatherneck's determination. During one exercise this fall he operated three days and nights while soaked to the skin. "We use competitive sports, any type we can get. When you see the percentage of men rejected for service, it's rather frightening."

Chairman, Trans-Canada Pipe Line, Ltd.
Texas oil and natural gas, Texas cattle and quarter horses and Texas football were and are an important, and a good, part of Charles Coates' life. Coates played center on a Texas team that beat Notre Dame 7-6, started as a roughneck in the oil field, glad to get a job in Depression times. He advanced quickly through production and management ranks of several oil and natural gas companies, became executive vice-president of Trans-Canada, then president. There Coates was responsible for a truly magnificent engineering accomplishment: the construction of the world's longest natural-gas pipeline, built at a cost of $375 million, which snakes from Alberta to Quebec. Last year Coates (a semiretired millionaire at 46) turned the presidency over to a Canadian associate, settled down to the cattle and horses on his ranch, still puts in 50 to 60 hours a week on business.

Director of Laboratories, Bristol Laboratories, Syracuse, N.Y.
This fall has been the most satisfying in Dr. Dickison's life. Last month, before the seventh annual antibiotic symposium in Washington, D.C., he was able to detail his company's success in developing synthetic penicillin, a headline-making advance in antibiotic therapy. A brilliant student and aggressive offensive guard at Vanderbilt, he later became assistant professor of pharmacology at his university's medical school, joined Bristol in 1946. Like almost every other fellow award winner, Dickison strongly favors a basic liberal arts education, even for the would-be scientist, concurs that athletic ability is a talent like any other and should be recognized as such by colleges. Since moving North, Dickison has become a skier and a competitive sailor (Flying Dutchman class) "because the concentration they require is very relaxing," also refinishes antique furniture.

Associate Headmaster, Kent School, Kent, Conn.
Every prospect of Sidney Towle's mint-new job pleases him except that since his charges are all girls he cannot field a football team. Coeducation is a radical departure from tradition by Kent School, a bastion of Episcopal Church education. When Kent trustees last year voted for a girls' division, they asked Towle, then a Boston trustee and lawyer, to head the finance campaign. He took a six-month leave of absence, did the job so well he was asked to head the new division. Towle, a man of varied good causes, reflected that "there are many, many lawyers, too few headmasters" and accepted. Twenty-five years ago Towle, then a 170-pound back, savored a 14-0 victory over Harvard. This fall he is interviewing prospective students, showing parents the school, editing proofs of the school's catalog—and pondering Yale's recent loss to its classic football enemy.



From nominating citations prepared by the colleges these 24 distinguished Americans made the final choice of 25 men whose achievements over the past quarter century they considered the most worthy.

Executive Vice-President American Tel. and Tel.

Counsel Lord, Day & Lord

President, American Machine & Foundry Co.

Editor, The Christian Science Monitor

Chairman The B.F. Goodrich Co.

Chairman The Cudahy Packing Co.

Chairman, American President Lines, Ltd.

John W. Galbreath & Co. Columbus, Ohio

Football commentator and All-America

President, Bausch & Lomb Optical Co.

Chairman National Steel Corp.

President Sears, Roebuck and Co.

Chairman C. J. LaRoche & Co.

President Hammermill Paper Co.

Chairman and President Burlington Industries

General of the Army

Chairman, Minnesota
Mining & Manufacturing

President, Atchison,
Topeka & Santa Fe Ry.

President, Standard Oil
Co. of California

Seiberling Rubber Co.

Grumman Aircraft

Fairfield, Conn.

President, Minneapolis-Honeywell Regulator Co.

Chairman, Finance Com., The Coca-Cola Co.