Hearing from Jim Brown who writes that he missed our 60th due to conflicts with graduations of granddaughters, one at the University of Georgia and another at the University of Virginia. The Browns’ grandson is a senior in high school and is in the process of college selection. He adds that the Georgia event was held on their football field with “a cast of thousands” and was “a little different than Wesleyan.” Jim and spouse Betty have cut down on travel, but he still works out three times weekly, with a menu of the bike, weights, and swimming—the latter, the backstroke for easier breathing, which I did not realize. See, we’re never too old to pick up new advice.
Jack Braitmayer and wife Nancy wound up with a dose of pneumonia in the early winter, but made a complete recovery. They, too, have dialed it back on travel, adding that they do not get to Florida any longer, but are at home in Marion, Mass., next door to where he grew up. Still, as of this writing, it is winter in the Northeast and Jack comments that waiting for spring seems an eternity. Jack has recently turned 88, and is looking forward to many more springs to come.
John Allison updates that he and Judy have an expanded family when in May last year they attended a grandson’s marriage to a young woman with two children, adding to the Allison’s “stepgreats” at ages 4 and 6, while their “greats” turned 1 and 10. He goes on to share an experience involving a successful procedure to repair a detached retina. The surgery he describes as in-and-out while the recovery is another matter, requiring one’s nose pointed downward for considerable time over two weeks. In John’s telling, he had plenty of time to think, reflect, and remember. Regarding the latter of these, it brought to his mind freshman Sigma Nu pledge adventures, one a gravestone search where the frosh weren’t even in the correct cemetery. Better luck awaited on a scavenger hunt over in Portland where a random stumble over a Coke bottle allowed for a deadline victory, much to the dismay of the ’56 brothers. John, I hope you do not need any further eye work!
While on the subject of freshmen and sophomores: my son Dave, happened upon an antique shop that had one of those postcard bins and he found one of Wesleyan dated February 1905 showing the chapel, the library, and Judd Hall. The card was addressed to a (presumably) young lady in Bridgeport by a young man in the Class of 1908 reporting that “we” won the Douglas Cannon “scrap,” i.e., the competition between the aforementioned classes. The scrap was for real—consult Dave Potts ’60’s initial volume of Wes history as to this annual event. Recall that ’57 had its own caper with the legendary cannon, as Jack Goodhue so elegantly wrote about in our 50th Re-u book. Where does that somewhat infamous cannon reside today?
Sparky Watts reports staying busy with travel, walking, reading, and pursuing philosophical studies. Further, their house in Madison, Wisc., will be placed on the market as he and Sarah determine where to move. She prefers a dry climate like New Mexico, yet two daughters live in Jacksonville, Fla., who want them there. On the whole, nice options. As POTUS often says, “Stay tuned.”
By now, the Bob Gorin family-sponsored skate party at Chelsea Piers has taken place. The event raises funds for the Brian Gottlieb ’88 Memorial Scholarship Fund. It is a yearly event with an outstanding record of participation and benefit to Wes.
Bob wrote in with happy news: “My grandson, David Harrison Gottlieb, will be entering Wesleyan this fall with the class of 2022. He will be the third generation of the family to attend. He is the son of my daughter, Bethel Gorin Gottlieb ’90, and her late husband, Brian Gottlieb ’88. It seems like yesterday that our class walked into North College in the fall of 1953 to begin our journey. I wish David and all of his classmates the best of everything.”
In the category of how a few chosen words speak volumes, this next from Tony Austin: “I sold my boat and am presently not fishing. Never should have sold it.”
Happy summer to all.
Art Typermass | email@example.com
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