Tag: 1956

From Sandy Mendelson: “After 60 years, Bob has persuaded me to put pen to paper for his deadline.

“I’ve been a cardiologist at Washington Hospital Center my whole career. At various times I’ve taught house staff, fellows, and technicians; directed the coronary care unit; introduced formal CPR, advanced cardiac care courses, and paramedics in the DC area; and practiced clinical medicine. Our department staff totaled two of us when I arrived, and we did ‘everything’ that could be done for patients in a community hospital in 1967. Now the department is huge, with nine subdepartments, a nationally ranked program. My present activity is small, but it’s been wonderful to play some part in the amazing progress of cardiology! Beyond hearts, I consult in bioethics, as part of our hospital’s Center for Ethics.

“Irene and I are healthy, travel a lot—in ’15 to China and to Patagonia, spend time with our three sons and their families (including six grandkids), and do volunteer work. I’ve served as synagogue president and remain deeply involved with other Jewish educational organizations.

“We look forward to seeing as many of you as possible at the Reunion!

“A sad note: the passing of our dear friend and my Wes roommate, Rabbi Harold S. White ’54. Hal was beloved and effective in his career at Georgetown University and in the DC area more generally. He attributed his passion for learning and teaching to his Wesleyan education and is widely mourned in this community.”

From Bill Bixby, several warm handwritten notes: “Hope to see everyone in May if Fran is well (dementia). Love Wes… Did not write Christmas letter last year due to a stroke Dec. 19th. In rehab six months—couldn’t drive and really missed it! Still have speech problems and work with a UMass graduate student here two to three hours a month…I can walk our dog, Barney, now but not like before!! He has to settle for 15-minute jaunts, not one hour, miles-long hikes. I miss not being able to read the way I could—I haven’t been able to finish a book yet!! Reading newspapers takes several days. (By then, it’s old news). I also missed my 64th high school reunion and Cape Cod this year!

“Mark (son) is with the same law firm (27 years) and has finally given up coaching soccer after 15 years. Jen (wife) fell on ice while walking the dogs last January and is still having headaches. Tucker (grandson #1) will be a senior at Trinity College and a U.S. Marine Reserve. His girlfriend graduated this year. They are very serious. Reed (grandson #2), will be a senior at Union College, will go to Italy to study Italian and the culture. Kevan (grandson #3) is a freshman at Hobart-William Smith College, five hours away in the Finger Lakes area. Kira (granddaughter) is a freshman in a new high school a half hour from home. She’s a goalie in field hockey. Mark picks her up on his way home. Merry Xmas, Fran and Bill.”

From Al Haas: “Not many of us could match George’s journey back through time to revisit his roots. My story is serendipitous but inauspicious. I spent three years after graduation as an officer on a destroyer with the Sixth Fleet in the Mediterranean, then a year at the University of Copenhagen, before coming back to the USA as navigator on the maiden voyage of a new yacht built in Germany. I was at the Berlin Wall when it was built, and our daughter was there when it was torn down,” he reports. He taught math at Hotchkiss School, returning each summer to Copenhagen, where he met and subsequently married Loni. The next two-plus years they lived in Micronesia, where he was deputy regional director of the Peace Corps. “We had our first child in the village [there] among the people…quite a spectacle!” They moved back to Cambridge, Mass., where Al attended graduate school in counseling and educational leadership.

“Over the years, I have been the principal or director of three secondary schools, two in Connecticut and one in Geneva, Switzerland. In between, we packed up and ‘hitchhiked’ around the world for a year, during which my wife and I were our two children’s teachers. Family and friends thought we were mad, but it was a life-changing and enhancing experience for all of us, especially for our son, 8, and daughter, 6. We ended up in Geneva at the International School. During our time there, I started helping expat children with the college admission process. This turned into Educational Futures (educationalfutures.com} that I co-founded with a Dutch woman in Geneva. This was in the mid-’80s, and the rest is history. I am still working full time with students from around the world who wish to study in North America at boarding schools or colleges and graduate schools. Working with young people keeps me legitimate and relatively ‘with it.’ Although I cannot keep up with them technologically, I continue to learn from my students, which helps to keep me in the game of life and a changing world. Loni and I are celebrating our 50th anniversary with a family cruise to Alaska this summer. Health is good, thanks to seven stents. Our two children have made us proud and have produced six unique and wonderful grandchildren. Basically, I think I have survived ‘old age’ by taking each obstacle in life as a challenge and turning each problem into an opportunity. We have few regrets and hope to see many classmates in May.”

From Phil Trager: “Ina and I plan on coming to the Reunion and look forward to seeing you there. To coincide with Reunion, there will be an exhibition of photographs from my forthcoming book, Photographing Ina. The years have surely flown by!”

“Dear Classmates of Robert J. Kaplan: I am so sorry to send you the news that Robert died of cancer in 2014. He was a wonderful father to our four children of whom he was very proud, a beloved husband, and a great cook. A psychiatrist, he worked in diagnostic centers for troubled youth in the ’70s and ’80s, and his unpublished manuscript, We Are All Afraid, was inspired by his compassion for disadvantaged youth. Subsequently, he was appointed by the New York City Family Court to evaluate custody cases, where his judgment was well esteemed. Wesleyan was the only educational institution of all he attended that Bob spoke positively about—for opening up new worlds of possibility and stimulation. Best regards, Peggy Jarrell Kaplan.”

See you in Middletown!

Bob Runyon | rrunyon@unomaha.edu

George Chien | gchien@optonline.net

Hi, fellow classmates,

George and I hope that you are planning, or at least considering, your return to campus for our Grand 60th Reunion on May 19–22, 2016. It will be great fun to join you there and to celebrate our survival and loyalty to Wesleyan. Bring your spouse.

Don Ritt has begun an important conversation on Physicians Orders for Life Sustaining Treatment (POLST). Please read his comments and mine that may be found in the online version of Class Notes: classnotes.blogs.wesleyan.edu/class-of-1956/

George kindly wrote this marvelous story of Chien family and country loyalty for our current column:

“Our family trip to China in July (2015) was not unlike the third act of an improbable, real-life show.

“If you remember my slide show at our 2011 Reunion, or my profile in the spring 2013 issue of Wesleyan, you might recognize in our 2009 trip a sort of first-act exposition. Our primary goals were to see a total eclipse from my birthplace, Shanghai, and to visit my father’s grave in Kunming. Well, our eclipse was rained out, and our local agents couldn’t find the grave. However, our guide, Jasmine Zheng-Behrens, found a documentarian who had included my father in his work-in-progress about the Burma Road, on which my father’s war-time task was to build and maintain bridges. He was killed while flying to inspect a bombed-out bridge he’d built. Professor Ge flew from his project location in Burma to dine with us in Kunming. He told us that my father was remembered and revered in Yunnan for his sacrifice and for the bridge, subsequently renamed for him, over the Lancang (Mekong) River. These revelations, in a word, eclipsed our disappointments.

“The second act came the following year when we returned to Yunnan for a ceremony of remembrance on the bridge on the 70th anniversary of my father’s death. This time our cohort included my brother, Alan Chien ’52, and members of his family. On the way to the ceremony we were shocked to learn that days earlier the bridge had been taken down! Our somber mood was tempered by the knowledge that our quest, recorded by Yunnan TV, would be shown nationwide and that the bridge was not demolished, but dismantled, to be rebuilt in another location, away from the flooding caused by a newly-built dam.

“In the fall of 2013 I learned that the Chang-kan Bridge had been relocated and reassembled. In 2014, eight family members signed up for our return tour: our children, Judith Chien ’84, David, and Paul; David’s wife, Cheryl, and daughter, Jeannette, now 14; nephews Chris Chien ’83 and Dan, and Dan’s wife, Becky. All three branches of our family were represented: Chris’s father is my brother Alan ’52. Dan’s was my brother Philip Chien ’53, sadly long deceased. For Dan and Becky, it would be not only their first trip to China but also their first out of the USA and their first commercial flights.

“All of our trips to China have encountered pre-departure obstacles. In 2009 it was bureaucratic objections to our visa applications and Ann’s ruptured ankle tendon, which had to be repaired six weeks prior to takeoff. In 2010 we put off a late, troubling health issue until after our return. This time it was tickets. The agent bungled our booking, misspelling our name—but not our credit-card number. We had 10 reservations but were billed for 20. MasterCard cancelled eight tickets, and when we pointed out that it should have been 10, they cancelled ten more, leaving us with two tickets for 10 passengers. After two months of wrangling, it was finally resolved, two weeks before our departure. I spent more time on the phone, each time with a different person, than I spent flying from Newark to Boston to Beijing. But all’s well that ends well; the flights proceeded without a hitch.

“From Beijing we flew to Kunming and drove to the Stone Forest, a natural geological wonder, a national park, and an International Heritage site. Its strangely shaped limestone pillars have stimulated imaginations over the ages. Ann and I delegated the exploring to the younger generations and took the less challenging walk.

“Next, the bridge, now set in a remote location on a tributary of the Lancang River. About one-and-a half football fields long, it was the first steel suspension bridge in China, built with components from the USA and carried to its original site by hand and foot over the Burma Road. The towers are newly poured concrete, but the superstructure, cables, supports, and platform are mostly original. It’s now a bridge to nowhere, really, intended only for pedestrians and inaccessible for motor traffic. Three free-standing marble slabs identify the bridge and tell its history. They are all in Chinese, of course, so we couldn’t read them. The Bridge proudly stands as a monument in what will probably become a park.

“On the bridge were the local historian, who presented us with a hand-drawn map showing the original location of the Bridge; TV crews from Yunnan and Shenzhen, 750 miles away; local reporters; Mr. Ge; and a representative of Yunlong County’s governor, who invited us to lunch at the governor’s residence. After exploring and photographing the bridge and its surroundings, we had our modest ceremony, bowed thrice to my father’s portrait, posed for group photos, and ate (without the governor). Lunch over, the historian walked me to our bus. I tried to thank him, but he wouldn’t have any of it, instead thanking me passionately for what my father had done 70 years before and for its impact on the region. Extraordinary!

“We were interviewed individually by both TV crews. By general consensus, Jeannette stole both shows.

“For the remainder of the trip we were tourists—a night in Dali, a day in Kunming, then back to Beijing. Call it the coda to our grand finale. We went to the Wild Wall, a partially restored section of the Great Wall. It was the fourth section of the Wall for Ann and me—we have only about 13,168 miles to go—but the first for Dan and Becky. On our last day we went to the Forbidden City, the 999-room imperial-palace complex. Ann fell in a cobblestone courtyard and partially tore a ligament in her left elbow. We waited until we were home to have it treated. This time, unlike 2009, she was in a cast after our trip, not before it. But now she’s as good as ever. Actually better.

“Oh, yes. My cousin in Chengdu saw a report of our trip on the Shanghai news.”

Bob Runyon | rrunyon@unomaha.edu

George Chien | gchien@optonline.net

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.

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