From the Archives: Are You an Original?

In the Fall 1977 issue of I.House World, a short notice appeared under the heading Are You an Original? It had been prompted by a letter from Chih Meng, a member of International House’s first cohort, who wrote in wondering how many of the House’s original residents from 1924 were still living and active. 

The question appeared on page six of the newsletter and was accompanied by an enclosed reply sheet, inviting former residents and Cosmopolitan Club members from 1924 or 1925 to write back to the World Members Office. 

What came back was more than a census. 

Letters arrived from across the United States and around the world, filling the newsletter with updates on long careers, retirements, travels, and family life. Many of the writers were already in their 70s and 80s, looking back across more than 50 years since their time at the House. 

Taken together, these replies did more than answer a question. They offered a rare glimpse of the House as living memory, captured just before it slipped fully into history. 

Among the responses were stories of connection that went beyond professional life. Several alumni wrote in to share that they had met their spouses at the House. 

One such story led to a photograph later sent by John J. Hader, documenting his marriage to Mathilde Christiansen. In a handwritten note beneath the image, Hader recorded that the two met in January 1925 and were married on August 26, 1926, adding a final line of gratitude. “Thanks International House!” 

Their applications place them at the House at precisely the moment their lives intersected. Hader applied for membership during the House’s inaugural year in 1924. Christiansen arrived in the United States in early 1925 and applied soon after, explicitly requesting residence at the House. 

Christiansen’s background helps illuminate the significance of that moment. Born in Norway and educated in Scandinavia and England, she had already begun teaching home economics before deciding she could learn more about her field in the United States. Inspired by ideas of work simplification and women’s education, she went on to build a distinguished career in nutrition and consumer advocacy, studying at Columbia University, teaching at New York University, and becoming the first executive secretary of Consumers’ Research. Her professional life unfolded across decades and continents, shaped by the same international outlook that had brought her to the House in 1925. 

When Hader later sent the photograph back to the House, noting that they were still married, it reflected not a brief encounter but a partnership that endured alongside long and consequential working lives. 

They were not the only ones. 

Other responses to the 1977 inquiry reveal similar threads. Miriam Baker Apperson, a member of the 1924–25 cohort, wrote back with vivid memories of that first year, recalling fellow residents by name and reflecting on how deeply the experience shaped her understanding of the world. “What a great year 1924–25 was to us,” she wrote, noting how much she and her friends learned through shared activities and friendships across cultures. 

Another response came from Dr. S. M. Broderick, who had lived at the House beginning in September 1924. Writing decades later from Sierra Leone, he remembered his room number, 101, and described making a point of returning whenever he visited New York, both to renew old friendships and to form new ones. For him, the House was not a chapter that closed, but a place he carried forward throughout his life. 

Taken together, these letters show that what we now call Sakura Sweethearts existed long before the tradition had a name. Relationships formed naturally from daily life at the House, alongside friendships, careers, and global networks that lasted a lifetime. 

There is something quietly striking about the timing of this exchange. In 1977, the original residents of 1924–25 were writing from the far side of long personal and professional lives. Seen from today, that perspective shifts again. Alumni in their 80s now are more likely to have lived at the House in the 1960s. What once felt close to the beginning is always moving forward, and living memory steadily becomes archival record. 

This story survives because someone thought to ask a question at the right moment, and because alumni took the time to answer. Preserved in the archives, their replies remind us that International House has always been more than a residence. From its earliest days, it has been a place where lives intersected, friendships formed, and sometimes love quietly took root.