Tag: 1956

Hello ’56 Classmates! I have been taking essay-writing courses at the University of Nebraska at Omaha, so I thought it might prove fruitful to request that you put on your artist hats, too.

That radical suggestion stemmed from my current writing efforts, and a distant goal to publish a personal memoir of travel, nature, and family (Seven Continents before Incontinence). It is to be a family legacy document, perhaps of primary interest to my two grandchildren and a handful of others. Surprisingly enough, all of those to whom I mention the above intended publication, react with a hearty belly laugh, followed by the query, “When can I read it?” That spurs me on.

As you may remember, my artist’s query went out on Friday, Dec. 5th, and it began like this: “You have a story. Tell it now. Let me speak to your inner Artist. I believe that we are all artists…”

On Saturday, Barry Passett was the first to respond with a quip: “My inner artist doesn’t work on weekends.” An earlier note from Barry to George went like this: “Your travel sounds wonderful. We went to Alaska some years back and consider it one of our most wonderful adventures. We had all six of our grandchildren (with parents) here over the weekend. Two would be perfect candidates for such a trip. I’m the uncertain one. Eighty has not been good to my back and legs, and I’m unsure I could handle a cruise ship. Wanted badly to go to Norway, and same problem applies.”

With great delight, I also fielded this comprehensive update below from our long-serving Class Notes editor Don Ritt: “Dear Classmates, Many of you are already there. 80! I join the club tomorrow. 80! ‘Congratulations’, they say. ‘Swell’, I say, ‘What do I do tomorrow?’

“I will not complain because all the males in my family were dead by 72, but it is a challenging time. I have been very lucky—married for 52 years, three successful kids, four grandchildren, productive career. I even became the first medical director of the Palliative Care Program at Scripps Memorial Hospital, La Jolla at age 75. But now, there is less for me to do…play the piano, sing, watch TV, read, talk to neighbors, help care for my wife (a retired attorney with dementia), walk and walk and walk some more, go to medical functions and look important. I will find something tomorrow, probably related to palliative care. But I have learned stuff, and I do have my message: ‘We have but one day. It is today. Enjoy it and live it completely.’”

Somewhat earlier, Don sent this to George: “80 80 80 80 80. You are old, man. I, however will not reach that level until 12/13. Am planning a party for >100 people around that time at a nearby country club. I do things for palliative care in San Diego and do not have the amount of work I want, but I really cannot complain. My wife had a brilliant career, including going to law school in her 30s and then serving as research attorney in the state appellate court for 15 years. Now her life is hard, due to the development of a dementia. I am the caregiver on weekends and after 5 p.m. I am getting better at it. I stay busy, walking three to four miles, three or four days/week, playing the piano at two hospitals, consulting, etc. We cannot travel due to the dementia. Lillian wanders at night. Our kids/grandchildren are marvelous: a lawyer in LA, a high level graphic artist in SFC, a PhD psychology instructor near Denver. Thanks for your note. Enjoy to-day. Best always. DJR, DNR, DNR (Donald J. Ritt, Damn Near Retired, Do Not Resuscitate).”

At Homecoming last fall George saw Jay Jenkins, who looks good, hinted that he might have something for these notes, and gave him his card. The card says “Ship Models Re-stored”—intriguing, but unfathomable to George and his several thumbs. After watching another excruciating overtime loss to Amherst, George was able to purchase a “Wesleyan not…” T-shirt from the softball team, which has acquired the franchise.

And Jay came through: “Some of our 1956 delegation have had reunions here on Buzzard’s Bay several times since 1991. Our last was June 2014. Over those visits, we have hosted Jack Dunn, Spud Parker, Doug Northrop, Al Haas, Ed Johnson, Ken Spencer, Dick Boyden, John Gettier, Andy Mason, Dave Porter—with spouses or significant others—for two nights by the ocean. Plenty of yarns, songs, and talks of special memories. Lobster was king for most! To our distress, some of the wives are no longer with us. We were truly pleased by Wesleyan’s development and goals, although Eclectic’s seeming demise has been unfortunate. We are proud of the lead by Eclectic’s Bill Moody ’59 in devising ways to restore, use, and maintain the house for the future.”

Incidentally, recent contributors to this column have inquired why their pieces had not yet appeared in print. George explains that apparent anomaly this way: “I hope that our classmates realize that the magazine is not like the Internet, which is virtually instantaneous. It could take a year before what we receive shows up in print. It’s all about timing and circumstance.”

Speaking of which, George writes, “After my modest but lovely birthday celebration, Ann mused, ‘I can’t believe I’m getting in bed with an 80-year-old man!’ Ain’t it the gosh-darn truth!”

George Chien | gchien@optonline.net

Bob Runyon | rrunyon@unomaha.edu

This will be mostly about Alan Gordon, who left us too soon in May 2010, but is fondly remembered. On Reunion weekend last May I talked with Larry La Brie and his wife Beth, who had just come from a memorial service in Hazardville, Conn., for Alan. They brought me copies of remembrances of Alan by Jim Wagner and Charley Longley, two of his freshmen roommates in Harriman Hall. I wish we had space to reproduce them here in full, but we don’t. I hope to capture a fraction of their eloquence in the excerpts below.

First, let me say that their fourth roommate, Bill Sieverling, left somewhat different impressions. According to Jim, Bill was “constantly worrying he was going to flunk out,” while Charley recalls the same Bill “suddenly appearing at 12 o’clock to nonchalantly type out a paper for a 1 o’clock class.” Well, we all know how that turned out [junior-year Phi Beta Kappa]!

JW: “I was the last to arrive, so I got the remaining upper bunk and the desk by the door, but I soon discovered that I had no trouble falling asleep when I only got about six hours of sleep a night!” He adds, “What an interesting assortment of guys we were!” Charles, he recalls “was a quiet fellow who kept to himself and didn’t talk very much, but was not at all unfriendly once you got to know him.”

CL: “I arrived at Wesleyan at my (our) quarters—and there was Alan’s mother. Don’t remember why she and I happened to be there alone, but I do remember learning that she was from Brazil, that I began pestering her with foolish questions about the country. I later learned that she wrote a gracious letter about our encounter to my mother, for they had been classmates at Wellesley. Alan’s mother made excellent guava jelly. [Alan] let me have a taste and no more! It must have been one of his favorites. No guavas in Maine. Delicious.”

JW: “Al [was] a serious, but pleasantly extroverted, friendly, and humble guy who seemed more amazing the longer you got to know him. He was the son of a missionary and planned to go into the same sort of work himself. But that was not all. Alan was very musical, and I got the impression that he could play almost anything that made sounds. Most definitely he could do very well on the guitar, accordion, piano, and organ, as well as sing quite well! Sometimes I wondered how he ever found time to study!”

CL: “Most of all. Alan loved things musical. I remember him at the organ in the darkened chapel on Friday night, with just the console lit up; and at the keys of the upright in the John Wesley House working out variations of songs for a composition class. About our junior year, he showed up with a big accordion, loaded with keys and buttons. And I remember Alan, elegant in tux, splendid in white shirt and black bow tie, full of smiles, eager and ready to sing!”

JW: “I remember Al best as a Christian brother and mentor who was very helpful to me as a brand new born-again Christian. I had had a very real conversion experience before arriving at Wesleyan. Al was there and often would encourage me when I hit a difficult spot or found studies or some other aspect of college life overwhelming. I remember Al more as a Christian who lived out his faith in practical way than one who talked about it a lot.”

CL: “It was through Alan that I became involved with the First Baptist Church in Middletown, teaching Sunday school and participating in youth fellowship… Occasional Sunday dinners after church with Rev. Johnson and family were lovely occasions.”

JW: “Alan’s girlfriend Alma visited from time to time. I seem to recall that they had been friends and sweethearts for some time, and it was really nice to attend their wedding in the Wesleyan Chapel just one day after we all graduated! I believe he was the first one in the class of 1956 to get married, and I was one of the last, not finding God’s choice for me until 1969! Indeed, I think that Al and Alma’s wedding was the first such ceremony that I had ever attended.

“I wonder what Alan is doing now in the great throngs that surround God’s throne as pictured in the Book of Revelation. Is he playing guitar, accordion, piano or organ, singing or perhaps directing the heavenly choirs? In any case, I do look forward to that Great Day when Alan and I and all the saints will be there singing (and playing) in the hugest orchestra and choir ever assembled to sing God’s praises forever! (I know he will be out of work as a doctor because there will be no more pain or sickness there.)”

Tributes to a great man, one sorely missed.

In July, Ann and I drove to New Hampshire to visit the sage of Antrim, Dick Winslow ’40. At 96. Dick is as gracious and witty as ever. He gets around with the help of two canes, but he still drives a car—too fast at times, he admits. Speaking of great men…

GEORGE CHIEN | gchien@optonline.net; 201/261-0997 

BOB RUNYON | rrunyon@unomaha.edu; 402/393-3320

My “Finding Your Laugh” Lyris message was intended as a “Creative Whack Pack” card for classmates. My purpose was to elicit an account of your kicks and surprises when attending to and noticing some of the funny stuff going on around you. Since I finished by calling it “your assignment,” however, I probably shut down some of those creative juices.

Mort Paterson certainly captured the spirit of this exercise with this smashing episode: “I am finally learning how to curse. My normally sweet and gentle wife, a versatile actress, has recently been performing the role of Violet, the embittered feisty lady in August: Osage County at our local little theater group. Her language includes some blatant obscenities. Having helped her with rehearsals and seen three performances, I have picked up on her vernacular, joined the trend of today’s grandparents, and am ready anytime to confront nonsense with ‘Blow it out your a**!’ So watch out.”

Having seen August: Osage County a few months ago in the Omaha Community Playhouse (one of the oldest, largest, and best in the country), I know just what kind of language Mort’s referring to there.

John Foster contributed this travel tidbit: “One funny moment comes to my mind which others have found amusing: My wife and I were visiting a small church in England, once the chapel on my grandmother’s family property. The local sextant kindly took us in and on a tour. Noticing me looking up at a series of ladders leading up into the spire, he asked if I would like to ascend for a view of the surrounding grounds.

‘Sure… and are there any bats in the belfry?’

‘No,’ he assured me… ‘once you baptize and confirm them, you never see them again.’”

We also have this family episode shared by George Chien: “I’ll share an amusing story about my 12-year-old granddaughter Jeannette, the Girl Scout. Her troop put on a presentation about Scouting around the world, with each girl representing a country that has a Scouting program. They dressed appropriately, and spoke briefly about Scouting in their country. They were urged not to fall out of character. Jeannette chose Russia and gave her little spiel with an imaginary accent. Afterward a mother approached her with a little girl, hand-in-hand. The mother had a request. She had recently adopted her daughter from Russia, she explained, and the girl had not yet learned English. Could Jeannette, she asked, talk to her daughter in Russian? Well, of course, she couldn’t, so trying not to fall out of character; she made up a story about her parents working in the American Embassy and having moved to the U.S. when she was very young. Consequently, she apologized, she speaks only English. Later I told her, she could have said, ‘I’m not really Russian. I’m Chinese.’ A cool one, at that—but I don’t know what she might have done if they’d responded in Mandarin.”

Responding to an earlier solicitation, we have this comprehensive update from Larry La Brie: “I suspect that most of us are now fully retired and spend much of our time around our individual local towns—particularly places like the doctor’s office, etc. So far Beth and I have been fortunate to have reasonably good health. Some years ago I had some prostate treatment and recently Beth has had cataract surgery and a stroke, neither of which has significantly restricted our activities. We take more pills than we’d prefer, but many of these are vitamins and mineral supplements. Several days a week I try to walk our beach on the southern Outer Banks of North Carolina for at least a couple of hours. The island we live on is not particularly good for finding shells unless we have had a significant storm or beach sand ‘re-nourishment’ is being done. These sand projects involve dredging sand from an inlet or bar and depositing it on our beaches. My favorite find was a large prehistoric shark’s tooth and some really neat shells.

“For a number of years, as a hobby, I have been carving decorative decoy birds—primarily waterfowl. I do this at a class at our local community college with a number of fellow carvers and an instructor. In some respects it is more a club than a class. I also take numerous photographic images—slides and digital.

“Some of our trips have involved viewing birds and other wild animals. Beth tolerates birding but does not enjoy it as much as I do. This year, she found us a Road Scholar trip to southern Florida to observe birds, which we combined with visits to a law school classmate and a former coworker, which we have just completed. I am considering a 10-day birding trip in 2015 to the Galápagos Islands, as it is a place I have long wanted to visit and my carving instructor is coordinating the trip.

“One of the participants in this year’s birding trip happened to be a law associate of our classmate Guy DeFrances—one of those strange coincidences of life—I felt the odds of that occurring were pretty long. He too had gone to a small eastern college and we had some enjoyable conversations about our college experiences.

“We have five grandchildren, the oldest of whom is in high school. Our eldest son is married to a Moldovan lady, and they have young twin girls. Our middle boy and his wife have two boys and a girl. Our daughter and son-in-law are still hoping to have a family—only married four years.

Finally: “Funny? Outlandish? Weird?” [Choose one.” I flew up to Wesleyan in November for Homecoming. My kindly hosts—Peg and Phil Crombie (roomie!). Beat Williams for the first Little Three title in 43 years! A pretty young undergraduate asked for my fossil fuel divestment signature in an elevator (an elevator at Wesleyan?). Grand dinner at Alpha Delt. What’s not to like?] Walter Ebmeyer.

Keep the funny, freaky stuff coming.

GEORGE CHIEN | gchien@optonline.net; 201/261-0997

BOB RUNYON | rrunyon@unomaha.edu; 402/393-3320