CLASS OF 1943 | 2026 | SPRING ISSUE

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Two of Wesleyan’s oldest living alumni died this past fall:

Dr. John Benson passed away on September 16, 2025, at the age of 104. His wife, Ginny Tilden, wrote that “John often spoke about the enormous value bestowed him by his three educational institutions”: Loomis School, Wesleyan, and Harvard Medical School. John’s medical career was long and distinguished—he held many leadership roles, including becoming the first president of the American Board of Internal Medicine, and received numerous awards. “Dr. Benson will be remembered for his practice and teaching of humanism and excellence, his love of family, and the values he modeled of service and integrity.”

In his memoir, John wrote of his time at the University:

Wesleyan Reflections

“My years at Wesleyan (1939–1943) were a privilege and a foundation for life and career. I was fortunate to win one of the six Olin Scholarships, which paid for tuition ($500). In this college of 700 men, 90% of us freshmen pledged national fraternities (Psi Upsilon for me), and in the last three years, I waited table and washed dishes to earn room and board at the fraternity house.  Biology and chemistry attracted me into a premed major, but I also minored in English, which later in my career helped me as an author of papers, minutes, and editing. I continued to develop in track, lettering as a sprinter indoors in winter and a hurdler each spring. Wesleyan’s Honors College exposed me to visitors such as Sinclair Lewis and Robert Frost in intimate readings at the elegant Russell House on campus. I vividly remember during the usual Sunday New York Philharmonic broadcast on December 7, 1941, hearing that Pearl Harbor had been attacked, and life changed abruptly. Senior brothers graduated into the armed services; my pledge master, Bill Evans ’40, was shot down in his navy fighter in the Pacific. Later, a cousin was killed in Belgium. Premeds were spared the draft, were tagged for the reserves, and could not resign from college to enlist. I was particularly honored and grateful for the mentorship of the chair of biology, Edward C. Schneider, PhD, who precepted my Honors College program and oversaw my thesis on emphysema. Wesleyan had effective small classes taught by professors, not TAs, and provided a rich intellectual and maturing experience.

“In the summer of 1942, I took a course for credit in invertebrate zoology at the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institute laboratory. Famous biologists, not preoccupied by the war effort, came there summers to do research. WWII had begun for the U. S., but there was little evidence of it there and few security measures. We could readily borrow a skiff to row to a nearby island for recreation. On the other hand, each week a convoy of freighters and other ships, perhaps 30, would gather in nearby Buzzards Bay and suddenly one night leave in convoy. Because light on shore at night could silhouette these ships vulnerable to stealthy German submarines, all of our windows had opaque curtains; outside street and commercial lighting was forbidden along the coast, and auto headlights were taped. I remember sitting on a front fender to aid the driver through the dark and foggy streets. Driving was minimized anyway by gasoline rationing.

“In the fall of 1942, I had an interview for admission to Harvard Medical School. I marvel today that I had no alternative plan. Wesleyan’s Dr. Schneider had given me a strong letter of recommendation. The Harvard dean of admissions, Worth Hale, was cordial as I waited to be seated in his large formal office. Peering over his bifocals, he said, “I see that you are a gentleman.” Flustered and inarticulate, I thought he referred to my waiting to be invited to sit in the upholstered wing chair. But, no, he indicated that a member of the admissions committee thought that anyone who ran track was a gentleman. The interview went well. Relieved, I caught a train back to Connecticut. That same Saturday evening, Boston’s famous Cocoanut Grove nightclub fire took dozens of lives, many trapped inside. To this day I usually check front doors of public buildings to be sure they open out. Harvard accepted me and one other from Wesleyan. I finished requirements to graduate from Wesleyan with a BA degree (it did not offer a BS then) late in March 1943 and started medical school on April 1, fortunate indeed, and grateful to Wesleyan for my launch.”

Jeff Loveland ’68 wrote to say his dad, Gene Loveland, passed away at the age of 105 on November 6, 2025. Gene was a member of Chi Psi and a sprinter on the track team, making a name for himself in the 220- and 440-yard dashes. “In March of his senior year, he was called to active duty with the U.S. Naval Air Corps. He served as a fighter pilot on board the USS Ticonderoga in the Pacific Theater and earned the Distinguished Flying Cross and two air medals.” He returned to Wesleyan in 1946, with his bride, Joan, to finish his final semester. After graduating Gene worked for Shell Oil Company for decades—first as a sales trainee, then ultimately as a vice president. In his life outside of work, he was a very active volunteer and leader for many Houston-area organizations. “Gene personally raised $21 million of the $74 million secured in private funds to build and give the City of Houston a new opera house and adjoining theater for the performing arts.”

Class Notes Editor | classnotes@wesleyan.edu