CLASS OF 1956 | 2015 | ISSUE 2
George here. As I reported in the magazine our classmates were more than generous in sharing their news. Mind you; we can receive more news than we have space to print, but never too much to appreciate. So here is what you missed.
Incidentally, I began my appeal for news by expressing my reservations about social media in general to elicit opinions on the subject from our fellow 56era. And, in this informal and very unscientific inquiry, a substantial majority of my respondents apparently agree. Even Bill Moyle, who pointed out the obvious flaw in my logic (grandchildren), wrote, “Otherwise, I do about the same as you. I don’t have that much time to waste.” Those who didn’t respond evidently were too occupied with texting, posting, and tweeting to bother. They’ll still be welcome at our forthcoming reunion, as long as they promise to look up at least now and then from their small screens.
I’m leading off with Jim Gramentine because he’s been trying valiantly for the better part of a year now to get this story, and it’s a good one, into the class notes.
“Shortly before we boarded mid-afternoon on January 27, 2015, Nancy, a friend we had made over the previous ten days, told my wife that she had a ‘strong feeling of impending doom.’ We were passengers on the Discovery, a three-decked catamaran, numbered 19 and the crew nine.
“After touring Tobago Island, we crossed the bay back to Panama City harbor. As night fell, we were moored perhaps a ½ mile from the shore and ¼ from the entrance to the canal. First course had just been cleared; virtually all of us had glasses of wine as well as water, when a strong wave hit the side of the ship I faced from the head of one table. Then another, then a stronger, then the mother of all harbor waves put the small catamaran at a ?? degree angle. I thought we were going to capsize. Most of the guests (average age 75?) and their chairs fell to the floor along with nearly all of the glasses.
“I grabbed Sarah by the shoulders, preventing her from falling (or was it for the sake of my own stability?), also saving my glass of wine. Pandemonium for two, three minutes; people with cuts, bruises, perhaps one concussion, but no one hurt seriously. The crew responded magnificently. The captain later explained the cause as a huge jet boat that almost hit us. Plantains instead of the rice dish in which they discovered glass. Drinks on the house but paper cups. Sarah asked Nancy if the event had been her ‘impending doom.’ Nancy supposed it had.
“So ended our most memorable overseas adventure. The next two days we enjoyed a calm but highly interesting passage of the Panama Canal.”
Here’s a more tranquil report from Betty and Larry Labrie.
“We are now grandparents of seven. The last four have come two at a time! Beth likes to tell that our second child, who with his wife had our three oldest grandchildren one at a time, did it the ‘right way.’ Our oldest son and his wife had twin girls in 2008, and our daughter (the youngest child) and her husband had twin boys March 7th. We were there the day after the births to help for two weeks or so and sent home to rest. Needed lots of rest and are back with them in PA for a week plus. The boys have grown and weigh over 11 pounds each and doing more laughing and smiling.
“I am still in the carving class at the local community college in Morehead City, NC carving decoys and enjoying it. Doing less on the lovely beach here in PKS and more visits to the doctors.
“Enjoyed being with you a year ago at Wes. Looking forward to our 60th reunion year.”
Find the common denominator in these two reports.
From Bob Calvin:
“Always nice to hear from you and Bob. No social media, limited use of on line devices? I think you are moving away from your Chinese heritage . [What??? G.C.] Every month Art Von Au and I correspond. He sends me a wonderful hand written note on a tasteful greeting card, and I send him an email filled with local activities and views on world events. Email vs tasteful hand-written card. Therein lines the contrast between digital and analog. I probably enjoy his notes more than he enjoys mine.
“I am teaching entrepreneurship courses on line now at Novoed.com which is part of Stanford. I prefer the class room experience that I enjoyed for 30 years at the Graduate Business School at the University of Chicago, but online courses allow me to interact with students in Russia, China, Brazil, and Africa. Jane and I are planning a trip to Italy and France this fall, and hopefully we will take it. Bob Buckley, our classmate, is teaching Jane French. We visit our daughter and grand daughter in NYC several times a year.
“Time seems to be speeding up. Days turn into months and months into years very quickly. I have less patience than before, and I never had much.
“Peace.”
And Dick Bauer:
“My take on the new digital technologies is about as enthusiastic as yours. Fortunately my wife, Ginny, protects me from this particular deficit—some others, too….Health pretty good given the age thing—bicycle regularly; walk at better than a waddle pace, but not much better. Remember our life-sport requirement: golf or tennis? One of these days I really should try them out….Presented on the privacy vs. security problem for a Great Decisions program, and led a couple of discussion groups for Life Long Learning using Atul Gawande’s Being Mortal (along with other materials). Relevant for our age cohort….A very happy bit of news—Art and Rosalind von Au moved into our CCRC a few months back! See them pretty regularly. Now, if we could entice a few more of you to come to Linden Ponds…”
It’s Art von Au, of course. Hey, Art! Drop us a line one of these days!
Barry Passett is a kindred soul, not just with me.
“George, I’m with you 95% on social media: I had to let myself agree to LinkedIn because some friends asked. but then I realized it was a mistake and I don’t check it (even when Don Ritt tries to send me stuff.) You are not alone! [Don’s the one who told me to ignore LinkedIn! GC.]
“I am spending half my time going to doctors for my ailments and the other half trying to provide counsel to friends and acquaintances on how to navigate the health system. Some of the smartest people turn to mush when a doctor tells them to do something, no matter how stupid it is. They don’t question, and they don’t argue. Often that means they get hurt. Almost everyone I know has had a hip replaced, half have had knees done. I don›t believe there are that many diseased joints in Washington (well, excluding the Capitol of course.) And so many back surgeries, where the success rate may soon hit 50%. Anyhow, mine is useful work. Despite (or maybe because of) all that, I did get an Honorary Lifetime Membership in the American Hospital Association.”
I promised more from Fred Boynton.
“I share your aversion to social media, partly as a hangover from when the security officers on our government contracts used to advise us not to be overexposed. I also haven’t received a copy of the Wesleyan Alumnus in years, and wasn’t sure you were still in business.
I am retired (about five years now) and live in La Jolla with my wife Beverly. We have two sons and four grandsons. (I was one of four boys. Something seems to be barring the second X chromosome.)
“Beverly and I have been traveling around North America. In 2009 we drove to Alaska, hit the usual tourist spots and then took the ferry back to the lower 48 along the Inland Passage. In 2012 we drove across the US to Virginia, where my surviving brother lives, stopping on the way in Kansas City for my 60th High School reunion. We have also made some wine tours along the West Coast, from San Diego to British Columbia and points between.
“Our sailboat has become a ‘harbor queen.’ I considered selling it earlier this year, but an acquaintance has taken over the maintenance in exchange for his use of it from time to time, so I remain a boat-owner for now.”
By the way, Fred sent me his Tales from the Annals of America. I’ve only been able to sample it so far, but so far so good!
This was the unkindest cut of all! I’m embarrassed to say that I left out the best part of Don Price’s communiqué.
“You may remember that, in my senior year, I had a hard time deciding between medicine/science and the humanities. Thanks to support of Fred Millet and Norman Brown I was offered a scholarship to Columbia to study with Jaques Barzun. However, I decided to attend medical school. ‘The Road not Taken’ (Frost). Over the past several years, I have begun to walk back up the humanities road and started to give talks on literature and the brain. For example, next week at the Hopkins Biennial, I am speaking on ‘Dementia: From Shakespeare to Alzheimer to 2015.’ The idea goes back to C.P. Snow’s two cultures which I discussed with Fred and Nobby so many years ago. In this enterprise, I have been encouraged by many friends, including George Ray ‘54, great Shakespearean scholar. We, our wives and other friends, including Dan Josephthal, get together to see performances at Blackfriars Theatre in Staunton, Va. A great venue/company and our favorite theatre; over several decades the ASC/Blackfriars program has allowed us to see virtually the whole Shakespeare canon live.”
Right on!
And speaking of Fred Millett, Walt Ebmeyer, commenting on my claim that I proofread my email, made this observation. “Being an old Fred Millett baby, I worry a lot about typos and misspellings and bad grammar. Where, after all, are standards?”
Where indeed?
Thanks to all.
I’m also attaching two photos from our trip to China. One is of the rebuilt bridge itself; the other is of the assembled Chiens by the bridge’s historical marker: Left to right: nephew Chris ‘83, daughter Judith ‘64, son Paul, Ann and George ‘56, (kneeling) granddaughter Jeannette and Dan’s wife Becky, daughter-in-law Cheryl and son David, and nephew Dan. My father, Chang-kan Chien is pictured on the right.
ON THE ROAD
We all kick the can down the road from time to time. But every once in a while, we must stop to take stock. That happened recently at my GADZOOKS early morning coffee club. One of the guys commented about my shiny new, blue Toyota RAV4 car parked just outside the door. Sitting to my right, Fred asked,
“Well, Bob, how old are you?”
“Eighty,” I said.
Without dropping a beat, Fred replied, “Well, that was your last new car purchase.”
We all laughed knowingly because Fred was prescient as always. With that purchase, I dropped out of the great American car chase. I won’t be kicking my can down that road again.
Many other travel journeys must also soon come to an end. I cannot say this better than our ever-mindful Don Ritt, M.D., who resumes his many notable contributions to ’56 Class Notes, with the brief memo below:
Dear Bob
Admittedly, I am obsessed and driven but now that I have given away my endoscope and concentrate on Palliative Care and end of life situations, I plead with you to remind our classmates that they are now 80 years old and that time is running out. Please remember, tell them, that they should complete their end of life directives and POLST documents (to avoid chest compression, intubation and tube feedings). It is okay to talk about death; it’s a very common event. Tell them to remain in control.
Best wishes,
Your visionary, aka, d ritt
I believe that a Google search of POLST is good place to begin the process advised by Don above. When I did that, I came up with this:
“A growing number of states are promoting Physician Orders for Life Sustaining Treatment (POLST) Paradigm Programs, with the goal of helping physicians to better respect their patients’ wishes for end-of- life care. The tool turns an advance directive into actionable medical orders, allowing seriously ill patients to specify choices about certain interventions, giving patients more control of what end-of-life care they receive.” (Medial Ethics Advisor, April, 2013).
It may seem like I am leading you into another deep cave during income tax season (this note prepared in March). And to be candid, it is no short or simple task to address the complex End of Life issues on our plate. Complex questions emerge: What advance directives? Which patient’s rights?, What about a timely case-by-case diagnosis?, Can a hospital or family member assert final authority?
Although people have been dying for some time, it just so happens that the public health, medical, cultural, economic, and ethical landscapes have been changing big time in recent decades. It’s no longer about your “father’s Oldsmobile” as people said long ago. We must each become conversant with the new realities of dying in America.
I just purchased a highly acclaimed, recent book entitled, BEING MORTAL: Medicine and What Matters in the End, by Atul Gawande, 282 pp. This paragraph rang my bell:
“But this is an unsettled time. We’ve begun rejecting the institutionalized version of aging and death, but we’ve not yet established our new norm. We’re caught in a transitional phase. However miserable the old system has been we’re all experts in it. We know the dance moves. You agree to become a patient, and I, the clinician, agree to try to fix you, whatever the improbability, the misery, the damage, or cost. With this new way, in which we together try to figure out how to face mortality and preserve the fiber of a meaningful life, with its loyalties and individuality, we are plodding novices.” (p. 193).
I thank Don Ritt for introducing this important topic to our Class Notes discussion. I hope you have found this note appropriate and instructive.
In any event, you are encouraged to send George and me your comments, considerations and personal stories. Let us resolve to plot a buoyant future course, while preserving memories that bring honor to our lives and family legacies.
George here. I fervently hope that Doc Ritt and Bob will stir us octogenarians into action.
I’d like to kick in my two cents worth.
My great uncle Frank H. Ryder, Wesleyan Class of 1900 and a trustee of the college for 50 years, lived a full and productive 91 years, actively involved to the end in countless organizations. At a dinner with my mother he revealed what kept him going. He had something scheduled for every day—always something to look forward to. Not knowing that it was to be his last, he told her that it had been a perfect day. He died that night.
Get your POLST documents in order, folks, but mind your calendars, too.