November 21, 2012
Joe DiMaggio
I have seen the movie many times since but have yet to spot myself. Such are the joys of Tinseltown. Lawrenceville had some very strange customs. New boys were called “rhinies” and were not allowed to walk on the grass except for sports. We also had to wear a beanie. If one broke the rules and walked on the grass, any older boy could order him to take a brick, which the rhinie had to carry with him at all times except while playing sports. Already quite confused by the language, I nevertheless discovered a way not to attend class but stay in my cube in Thomas House and read the novel Michael Strogoff in German. Using sign language and some German, the head of the lower school, Mr. Heynigger, asked me my reason for cutting classes. I pointed at my corner, where I”d dumped about twenty bricks. The rule soon was changed thanks to Taki. Any boy who weighed less than 120 pounds could not carry more than three bricks, if that.
I weighed 103 pounds and soon found myself wrestling in the junior varsity team because no American boy at the time was as puny as me. And there was a 103-pound class. Winning my numerals helped me stick out a bit.
All the 400 boys used to go to the Jigger Shop after dinner and before study hall. One night, the captain of the football team, Carl MacDonald, crossed the crowded room there and came up to me. He shook my hand and asked if I was the son of the King of Greece. I nodded yes. “I thought so,” said Carl. I was made right there and then.
The student council president was Temple Brown. The best sportsman was Homer Smith, who died only this year and was an Army general and a well-known football coach. My best friends were Ben Cooper, Bill Trimble, and Ludlow Miller. My favorite teacher was Mr. Wagner, the wrestling coach, and I was the only foreign-born student that year. My, how things have changed.
