were in cap and gown. Because of the epidemic, recitations have been called off for a while and the men are drilling from morn until night.
October 2, 1918; from President Hopkins to Harris Hatch of
Philadelphia, father of Tracy Hatch, DC '22:
In case you are worried concerning Tracy, you will be glad to know that he is entirely well and states that he has had no suggestion of the influenza epidemic, which has been more widely prevalent here than any disease ever was in the College before.
I have thought that with the increase in cases in Philadelphia you might like to know how things were with him. We seem to have turned the corner on the proposition and the condition is improving greatly.
October 4, 1918; from President Hopkins to Trustee Lewis Parkhurst of Boston:
You will be interested to know that we have had well over 400 freshmen enter—somewhere between 410 and 420—which is up to last year's class. Some considerable number, however, have left: because of their fear of influenza on the one hand, or because of the assumption that they could get preparation for some special form of service elsewhere that couldn't be got here.
The influenza is letting up. I did not follow the suggestion of the War Department that we suspend operations until October 10, for we were so near panic here that I felt the whole College would disappear if that were done. The doctors stated that plenty of fresh air and outdoor work were the best antidotes for the disease, and I therefore arranged with Captain Patterson to put in practically the whole time from daylight until dark in military drill until October 10.
The net result is that the epidemic is being cut down very fast; all but one of our student cases bid fair to recover, and
"One freshman has died,
and I don't know how
many soldiers. Chapel
has been cut out, the
movies closed, and
Dartmouth Night, which
was to be held next
Monday to celebrate the
College's 150th birthday,
has been cancelled."
I think at last that we have seen the worst of it in the training detachment, although it has been a very sad thing the way it has raged in there.
ll in all, I think that we have good days ahead of us, both actually and metaphorically.
October 5, 1918; from Lewis Parkhurst to President Hopkins:
I am delighted to learn of the way things are headed at Hanover. Your treatment of the influenza was most sensible. No place in the world could be better for boys threatened with that disease than the country around Hanover, especially in the bright days we have had this week. I
judge from your letter that there have been some fatalities in the training detachment at the gymnasium. I shall be glad to know about that. I hope that the worst is now over. The disease is still rampant in and around Boston. Our manufacturing department and business generally is absolutely demoralized, but we are doing the best we can to keep going.
October 7, 1918; from President Hopkins to Lewis Parkhurst:
Replying to your inquiry about the influenza epidemic, we are still having a hard time of it. Our fourth student died on Saturday, a young sophomore, son of Dick Campbell of Denver. Another boy named Slawson, of Greenwich, Conn., can hardly live. Beyond these, we hope that there are no more fatal cases, although any of the convalescents appear to be inexplicably subject to pneumonia up to the moment of complete recovery.
The training detachment proposition has been so bad as to be almost tragic, and that in spite of the contribution of strength and service on the part of doctors, nurses, and women of the town beyond anything we have ever seen here.
The disease struck there almost as soon as it appeared in this country, and before the medical officer realized its seriousness. I do not mean that anything was left undone, but I think that if we could have secured permission from Washington to break up the detachment at once we might have escaped some of the fatalities. What seemed so good an arrangement, namely barracking the men in the gymnasium, and what would have been a fine arrangement in the 99 percent of possible situations, turned out in this to be the one worst thing possible. There have been eight deaths, and there are two others fighting pneumonia at the present time whose chances of recovery would be fair if we could have some clear, dry days but who are handicapped by the kind of weather we have been having. It is small comfort to know that the conditions in town about us are far worse, . . . but it is