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:
UNIVERSITY OF ALABAMA
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.
KENDALL DE BEVOISE
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.
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA
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.
CALIFORNIA INSTITUTE OF TECHNOLOGY
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."