Class Notes

This from Sam Bergner: In usually quiet Metuchen, New Jersey, the Bergner household entertained a visit from Bill Fullarton earlier in the year. With some family business to attend to, Bill drove in from Dublin, Ohio­—some 14 hours straight and staying awake through lunch, then arriving “fit as a fiddle” according to Sam. Turns out that Bill’s granddaughter and Sam’s grandson, one a current and the other a future student at Trinity, are Instagram friends. Seems that Bill and the Bergners are still studying, i.e., courses and lectures online. Sam adds, “If only we could remember the material the following week.”

On the move finds John Allison. I had a conversation with John a few months back wherein he told me he was destined for Virginia to be close to family. When I mentioned that this would help him to escape winter, he said, “Not so much, actually, it is (west) Virginia, not to be confused with West Virginia but still mountainous terrain and can get snow.” When John has a new address, it will be reported in the next column.

Heads up ’57, 2022 is a reunion year!

Editor’s note: We are sincerely sorry to report the passing of Art Typermass on October 4, 2021. This was his last update for Class Notes. We extend our sincere condolences to his family and classmates.

Our May Reunion was a qualified success. Owing to the pandemic, of course, we couldn’t gather together on the campus, but we did the next best thing—we met on Zoom. Participation was limited; 21 steadfast classmates on screen: Dick Bauer, Bill Bixby, Dick Boyden, Bob Bretscher, Bob Calvin, Pete Gardiner, Art Goodkind, Jim Gramentine, Al Haas, Dick Irwin, Jay Kaplan, Jim Katis, Larry La Brie, Sandy Mendelson, Mort Paterson, Phil Trager, Dave Thompson, Art von Au, Jim Wagner, Paul Weston, and yours truly had a lively exchange of news, memories, and aspirations for our post-COVID future. Unable to attend but sending their greetings were Bill Horrocks, Guy DeFrances, and Dave Wolf. I was impressed by the general sense of optimism from a group that has been around, as Bill Horrocks observed, for four scores and seven years. I also marveled at the number of classmates who have, like Ann and me, lived in our current residences for 55 years or more. A particular highlight of the event was Mort Paterson’s show of his recent paintings. Best of all was the prevailing attitude that “We ought to do this again.” Which we should—when the stars align correctly. Kudos to my fellow Reunion committee members (Boyden, Irwin, Thompson) who hashed out the format, and sincere thanks to alma mater’s stalwart staff for making it happen.

Dick Bauer’s assessment: “Like you, I thought it was a rather good reunion given the Zoom parameter. What pleased me was the number of our classmates engaged in public enrichment initiatives despite our advanced ages.”

Al Haas writes: “Thank you once again for your integral contribution to keeping the ’56ers connected. The recent cyber-reunion efforts on the part of the University staff with your involvement resulted in a wonderful walk down memory lane and surely a ‘bucket list’ item for many, including me. I am not sanguine that my classmates need to hear that I am still engaged fully with our business of working with high school students on the school and college application process, which is increasingly vexing, competitive, and wrought. Our interest from the outset was to provide guidance to qualified international students from around the world who wanted to study in America. I learned from living and traveling abroad that many top students were attending third-rate colleges, a clear mismatch not good for the American image worldwide. I intend to keep it up as long as I have ‘fooled’ our students that I know what I am talking about. After all, it takes a young one to detect a phony. So far, so good. Warm regards to one and all.”

From Jim Wagner: “Things are slowly returning to normal around here. The church my wife and I attend had its first full set of all ‘in person’ services on July 4, a dual celebration of our independence from Britain and COVID-19! Some of the nice concerts in the area are returning, either this summer or next fall. We hope to attend some with friends, as we no longer need a car and there are close to a hundred clubs and activities right here where we live!”

Tom Plimpton had “two things to report: I had my bladder cancer surgically removed in July. (2) On Saturday, July 3, my two daughters, Liz and Katie, went to Minnesota for one week to a resort owned by a cousin of ours. Keep up the good work—peace and joy.”

Get well, Tom. We’re all pulling for you.

Jay Kaplan’s daughter has informed us of the sad and startling news of her father’s unexpected death on September 1. We last “saw” Jay during our Zoom reunion in May. He seemed then to be, as always, energetic, enthusiastic, and fully engaged. He was a generous contributor to this column, because, of course, he had much to convey. It’s safe to say that in his 87 years, Jay didn’t waste a single one of them. He will surely be missed. His obituary can be seen in The Washington Post. Our hearts go out to Samantha, her brother Lael, and to Ann, his bride of 57 years.

Incidentally, I’ve retrospectively given our Reunion a handle: Fifty-six’s sixty-fifth [56’s 65th]. My spreadsheet tells me that a quasi-palindromic reunion is a once-a-century phenomenon! I’ll send you a copy if you need proof.

Looks like Jim Shepard has set a class record for the number of years until retiring, as he writes that in December 2019 his wife Sally encouraged him to shut down his expert witness practice and he has finally gotten around to listening to “the Boss” even though he wanted to delay for another year. Enjoy yourself, Jim, and as you added in your note, you can devote your time to the trials of the pandemic and the former president!

Drew Clemens continues to keep his hand in psychoanalytic training and professional organizations and has once again rejoined the editing business with a monthly type of magazine newsletter for his independent-living residential community called the Cardinal. He and his wife remain active and healthy, thankfully!

After 25 years as a retiree in Williamsburg, Virginia, John Ineson has moved to a continuing care retirement community only 23 miles from his family in New York City. He believed that some unexpected cardiac problems made it abundantly clear that being closer to his daughter and her family made good sense. He is getting used to the new facility in Sleepy Hollow, New York, and states that the casual lifestyle of Sigma Nu is not going to work in the new location, so he spends time “unpacking, packing, stacking, and fussing.” John writes that he is willing to discuss living in a CCRC with anyone interested!

“Not much to report,” writes Jake Congleton who continues to reside in Maine and would be happy to welcome any visitors! He was, like most of us, pretty well confined during the virus but, unlike most of us, was able to spend time with his wife Sally and their doggie Sadie on their pontoon boat (in the summer), and is now catching up with family and friends.

Things have been quiet here in Florida for Marianne and me. For us, like most of you, the pandemic has dictated our actions. Please know that my wife worked remotely for more than a year and a half and is still able to prepare my meals when I could not dine out. Fortunately, my passion for biking has not been curtailed, and as of today, I have been able to record more than 4,500 miles of great exercise and wonderful socializing with fellow riders.

I regret to inform you that our classmate, Vincent “Wink” Del Duca Jr. passed away on October 5, 2021. Our class sends our deepest condolences to his wife, Mary Lou, and his entire family.

Always, sincere good wishes to you and your loved ones in the days ahead.

Hello, classmates! Not many entries for this edition. Hopefully more of you will be able to reply in the future.

Dave Walden says that he has been enjoying his 24 years of retirement. He writes, “Carol and I remain well—no problem (yet?) with COVID. University is on virtual classes, but hopes to return to “normal” soon. Difficult for laboratory classes. We have two grandsons in engineering faculty at Western, and we have not been able to see them! Best wishes to all!”

Bud Johnson enjoyed the last class reports from John Binswanger and Terry Hatter. He now writes, “Lynn and I just enjoyed three grandkids’ graduations via Zoom. Notre Dame’s two speakers set high marks for reality and hopefulness. It might be interesting to pull out our ’54 Commencement Address and print just two or three primary points for reflection. Remember, I was headed to Naval Pilot training a month later. I wonder what I have forgotten!”

Your scribe, Bob Carey, and his wife Libby have been weathering the COVID storm like so many of our classmates. Hunkering down and using Zoom to connect with family and friends. Who had ever heard of Zoom before?

We watched six graduations last spring (four college and two high school) on Zoom—or in one case, by telecom link. Secretly, we said to each other, “This is a pretty efficient way to witness a graduation: front row seats, no travel and no getting up at 6 a.m. to sit in the hot sun for four hours in stadium seats!” All kidding aside, it is wonderful now to be able to give hugs again. I hope you all are well and are getting back to normal, as we are.

Received from “The Mouse,” aka Richard Levinson: has yet to reach 90, continues with his firm practicing law throughout New Jersey, and regularly, poorly but energetically, plays tennis. His wife, Susan, continues to write nonfiction and blog for Psychology Today. Like all of us, he misses the guys that made Wesleyan a great place.

From Washington, D.C., the restaurants, after more than a year, are beginning to welcome, inside, Walter Cutler and his wife Didi for dinners out. He is planning a family reunion on the Wesleyan campus with his Cutler granddaughters, Grace ’24, from Evanston, Illinois, and Nina ’24 from New York.

I sincerely hope everyone has been well and staying safe during these pandemic times. Please consider sharing your news—good or bad—or your Wes memories with me for the next edition of the magazine. I look forward to hearing from you. Be well!

 

I am saddened to report the passing of our classmate George N. Morris, and Joyce Buckingham, the wife of our former scribe, Hal Buckingham. George’s wife Ann wrote that he died on January 20, 2021, from heart failure. He is survived by his wife, three children, four grandchildren, and one great-grandson. He was a world traveler, having visited all seven continents, and he crossed the Antarctic and Arctic Circles numerous times. Following graduation, he served in the US Army, graduated from Harvard Business School, and had a long career in finance in Boston, New York, and Philadelphia.

Joyce died on June 25, 2021, after a short illness. Hal began dating Joyce in her Oneonta, New York, hometown when she was a junior in high school and he was a freshman at Wesleyan. She was a regular at house parties and other weekend events while a student at Mount Holyoke. Those of us attending class reunions will recall that Joyce was always there at Hal’s side.

Harry Collings writes that he is still on this side of the ground at 91, living in a Del Webb Sun City in Lincoln, California, about 30 miles east of Sacramento. He lost his wife Peg seven years ago after 65 years of wonderful marriage and misses her every minute of every day. Playing bridge keeps him occupied, as does his two children, four grandchildren, and six great-grandkids. He worked 36 years for the DuPont Company. He reminds us that his dad was buildings and grounds superintendent at Wesleyan from the 30s to 50s and put in the original steam power plant, which has now probably been replaced. He sends his best wishes to all of us left from the class of ’52.

Zdenek V. David is still with the Woodrow Wilson Center for Scholars in Washington, D.C., as a senior scholar. His publications in 2019–20 included a book, eight articles, and a translation. See Amazon for a complete list.

Alan Ward says hello to our classmates and writes that he missed his grandson’s graduation this year after attending three family graduations and quite a few others, once after a Middletown flood blocked almost all access to Wesleyan. He is not sure about our 70th Reunion, maybe, but it looks like his lifelong ties to Wesleyan—graduate, parent, grandparent, alumni association, trustee, counsel for the antitrust investigation, and 70 years as a Deke—are drawing to a close. He offered his grateful thanks to Vic, Colin, Arthur Vanderbilt, Millet, Snow, Woodbridge, Banks, and so many others.

Jack Murray reports that last fall he finally discovered his whole father’s side of his background. He disappeared shortly after Jack was born in 1930, a Depression story. The discovery was through a new-fangled service called Ancestry.com. He discovered that he has two living (half) sisters and a late brother who went by his same name. Since his mother was seventh of eight children and his father eighth of nine, you can imagine the cousin and niece and nephew glut. Nice thing to find out in your nineties.

Finally, I am happy to report that my granddaughter, Eliza Bender ’24, child of Samuel Bender and Ellen Friedman Bender, both class of ’82, finished a very successful first year at Wesleyan. Her sister, Madeline, graduated Yale School of Public Health and is writing articles for Scientific American as an intern, among other publications. I celebrated my 65th anniversary with Barbara in August as well as number 90 in September. I wish all in our class the best and ask that they send me news about themselves and their families.

Biff Shaw has agreed to assume the role of Class Agent for the great Class of ’51; he thought the class would appreciate an update on the fundraising year that ended in June. Biff and fifteen others generously supported Wesleyan in honor of our 70th Reunion, with gifts totaling nearly $425,000, some of which came from bequests. Please contact Biff if you would like to know more about current and planned giving options. It is never too late or a bad time to take part.

I received a message from 1950s classmate Bob Birney, saying that he is alive, in good shape, and 96 years old. He was Phi Beta Kappa at Wesleyan.

This column marks the beginning of my 99th mortal year, my 32nd year of secretarial jottings, and I’m nesaki (Mohawk word meaning “standing on a high hill, looking backward”). I have climbed and stood, walked, even slept atop numbers of the Rockies, bits of the Alps, all of the gentle old Adirondacks, and several of New England’s White and Green heights. Always, the view, were it at dawn, midday, or sunset, was an inspiration, sometimes an admonition, occasionally a windblast scare; but it never failed to lift the horizon to the level of my vision. And that’s why we go high. My walking the top of the world is years gone and my visions are memories; clear, keen, and colorful memories. The eye of the mind is indeed a treasure.

Returned to the Hill of Class Notes, I look backward to September of 1941, when a generally happy, sometimes boisterous collection of youths were buying affordable textbooks, completing class schedules, visiting fraternity houses, trying out for teams or music groups, and making new friendships that were sure to hold forever, according to the Wesleyan songs. The Depression was fading; Hitler, and occasionally Mussolini, were newsreel interludes at the movies. But that was there, we were here, and the class of 1945 settled into planning four years of the Wesleyan adventure. Seven weeks later the explosions at Pearl Harbor blew the class of 1945 into fragments that scattered graduations all the way through 1949. We went to the war to end all wars, and some of us never returned to Wesleyan—some too damaged, some to other colleges, some already at rest in honored cemeteries, or in unknown places in other parts of the world. We were one class for a brief time, but our fragments have added luster to the entire 40s decade of the Wesleyan adventure. So, from my secretarial hilltop I look out and back, and I see that scattered, tattered class again a whole force, the like of which will not be seen again.

Slán go fóill.