Tag: 1964

I started to work on my notes on Oct. 3, 2018, exactly 67 years since the baseball world experienced “the shot heard round the world.” Most of our class was around 8 years old, and the future was a long way off. Every Oct. 3, I think about the sudden end to the 1951 baseball season for the Brooklyn Dodgers, when their pitcher, Ralph Branca, threw a high fastball that he couldn’t take back, and the batter launched it into the left field stands for a walk-off homerun. The echoes of the broadcaster’s excitement can still be heard today. “The Giants win the pennant!” It was the radio version of the game the broadcaster was delivering, and there was no recording of his memorable call. Amazingly, a Dodgers fan was anticipating a Brooklyn victory, and was recording the radio coverage on a new tape recorder. It became a part of history.

It’s now Oct. 10 and I’ve not had much class news to share. My deadline has been extended, as my mind had been occupied by Hurricane Florence threatening us here in Savannah. We were just south and west of the storm’s path, where we escaped the storm surge, and we had no power outage. However, there is Hurricane Michael on our radar, and it reminds me of Hurricane Andrew that devastated the area south of Miami.

Sadly, our classmate, Robert “Bob” Rugg, passed on June 25 and he was a remarkable human being. Multitalented, he left a legacy of commitment to the Richmond, Va., community he was part of for many decades.

I reflect on my own contribution to communities I have served for many years, delivering thousands of babies and mothers through the birth process. I have found it humorous, how God had a plan for me to go from a freshman student planning to be a professional baseball player, to an obstetrician. My father knew a merchant on his policeman’s beat, who had a son attending Wesleyan. Dad thought I could go to Wesleyan, get “the piece of paper to fall back on,” in case the baseball dream didn’t materialize. Amazingly, we needed a catcher on our varsity baseball team my sophomore year, and I found the position that fitted my hands and throwing ability. Academically, I found myself learning how to answer questions, and examinations became something I could do well.

The final piece to the puzzle came in the summer of 1962, when my summer baseball season was ended by an appendectomy. I was recovering at a Brooklyn hospital, when young resident doctors were making rounds. They weren’t the image of my family doctor, peering through eyeglasses propped over his nose. They were young men who looked like my classmates at Wesleyan. I realized, for the first time in my life, that I could do what these residents were doing. Fast forward through Albany Medical College and a medical degree, to a choice between cardiology or obstetrics.

I chose obstetrics by flipping a coin, but there was nothing by chance in my story. I self-published a book recently, titled Baseball and Babies: My Life as a Catcher. Wesleyan needed a catcher my sophomore year, and I had a strong throwing arm and a comfort for using the “tools of ignorance” catchers required. I had the “piece of paper” I needed to get accepted to medical school. It certainly helped my career as a physician, to answer questions on exams at Wesleyan. Physicians are examined every day, and we are marked by society and held accountable for our decisions. As a catcher, I was responsible for choosing the right pitch to have my pitcher throw. I was thinking about various options every moment during the game.

Catching every game, during my three years of varsity baseball, prepared me for my career as an obstetrician-gynecologist. Coach Norm Daniels allowed me to call all of our pitches, as I weighed the talents of the opposition, and the skill of our pitchers. I realized that I had a selfish streak, but the catcher has the weight of the pitching staff, and the success of the team at heart. This realization was more valuable than any personal glory achieved reaching the major leagues.

Being on the team that was Little Three champions in 1963-64 was a dream come true. Recently, I learned of the existence of the Wesleyan Baseball Wall of Fame, located behind home plate. Two pitchers I caught at Wesleyan, Phil Rockwell ’65 and Jeff Hopkins ’66, were on the wall. I attended the induction of another pitcher I caught at Wesleyan in early May this year, Steve Humphrey ’63. In 1963 and 1964, our teams were good enough to be invited to the NCAA regional playoffs for an opportunity to reach the College World Series, but the university was fearful it would overemphasize sports. Liberal arts colleges have learned that sports contribute to maturity and commitment to community. Three pitchers’ names on the wall is a testimony to Coach Daniels and players that were a special family at Wesleyan.

TED MANOS, M.D. | ted_manos@yahoo.com

Class of 1964 Endowed Wesleyan Scholarship

Dimitri Jaron Slory ’21, Brooklyn, NY

I’m sitting in my friendly recliner, updating my notes for the spring edition of the Wesleyan magazine. The outside temperature here in central Florida is a balmy 36 degrees. I’m watching the Weather Channel and its coverage of frozen america, where winter storm Grayson has left its record-setting imprint on the eastern seaboard. During one night, the temperature was 27 degrees, and I woke up to a power outage. I had all sorts of concerns with not knowing how long this would last. I prayed for the power to return, and it did within a half hour. I was grateful when the lights turned on, but I realized the miracle that is electricity has transformed life.

I’m in the process of selling my house in central Florida, and moving into my condo in Savannah, Ga. My wife and I are moving to northeast Georgia, where the temperatures, on average, are 10 degrees lower than central Florida in the winter months. The difference in temperatures really matter when Arctic air moves down to the Southeast, but I plan to find a condo in Florida to escape the 10-degree buffer.

Steve McQuide answered my request for news, as he “celebrated 50 years of marriage to a wonderful woman, watching three grandchildren grow up, riding the stock market; life is good.” He added, “having come to realize that I’ve become quite a different person than I was at Wesleyan.”

Dan Davis reported completing a deferred charitable gift annuity to Wesleyan. It provided for a nice tax deduction, annual income at a fixed interest rate, and guaranteed money for Wesleyan when he dies. He described it as a “win-win situation.”

Russ Messing shared: “I am totally retired and loving not going into work. My days are spent going to the gym, doing desk work, culling, reading, writing more poetry, breathing deeply, and noticing changes in my mind, body, and the world.”

Duane Starr is mostly retired but continuing part-time in the Global Security Directorate of Oak Ridge National Laboratory. He’s looking forward to turkey season in the spring. Until then, he’ll have to be satisfied with whatever trout he can pull out of the Clinch River. He realizes that his life is good, having a loving wife, three children, and a moderately comfortable life style. He enjoys singing, and, when time allows, doing woodworking in a shop he set up on his side of their two-car garage. He appreciates what is still working well, much greater than when he was younger.

While working on my notes, I received an email notification of the passing of Michael O. Smith, M.D. on Dec. 24, 2017. He was a psychiatrist, acupuncturist, addiction specialist, and public health planner. He is survived by his daughters, Joanna Smith ’00 and Jessica Hutter.

Once again, Wesleyan graduate, Bill Belichick ’75, has led the Patriots to another Super Bowl after beating the Jaguars for the AFC NFL championship. At the time of writing, they will face the Eagles in two weeks. Dilly-dilly.

TED MANOS, M.D. | ted_manos@yahoo.com

The recent controversies around the playing of the National Anthem before NFL games has added a coincidental factor to my news from classmate Lou D’Ambrosio. Lou was invited to sing the National Anthem before a MLB game in Angel’s Stadium in Anaheim, Calif., in June. He also sang, “Take Me Out to The Ballgame” during the seventh inning stretch, and he included a video of the event. He said, “I had the honor and privilege of singing our National Anthem.” It is our National Anthem, and it’s always a choice in how to pay respect to the ideals it brings to mind.

Lou celebrated his 45th wedding anniversary with his lovely wife Christy, “reliving our past honeymoon in beautiful Carmel.” They also went up to Napa, Calif., to visit with Steve Humphrey ’63 and wife Ginny, where they played golf and sampled lots of tasty wines. Lou and I played with Steve on Wesleyan’s baseball team in 1962-1963, with Steve being a bulldog on the pitcher’s mound, and a pleasure for me to be his catcher.

I received a photo of Lou lunching with Wink Davenport and Jay McIlroy, all with wide smiles of retiree contentment. Unfortunately, they informed me of news about Jim Reynolds and his wife, Patty, who are facing serious health issues. Our prayers go out to them.

Oliver “Chips” Wood Jr. and spouse Crete have retired from the fast lane of real estate in Carmel, Calif. They are building a home south of Pueblo, Colo., on the Saint Charles River where Crete was born. They offered an open invitation to drop in and enjoy the vistas in their state.

And congratulations to David Skaggs on receiving the 2017 Distinguished Service Award from the U.S. Association of Former Members of Congress at its annual meeting on September 27 in D.C.

My wife, Becky, and I drove from Florida to Lafayette, Ind., in mid August, to attend a fantasy football draft with my brother-in-law and other educators, in a league we’ve been a part of for a number years. The main reason for the trip was to attend the wedding of Becky’s nephew just east of Indianapolis two weeks after our draft. My wife came up with something to do in the interim gap of the schedule.

We took an Amtrak train from Lafayette to Union Station in Chicago, and connected to the California Zephyr heading for Emeryville, Calif. The latter leg of the journey took 51 hours which included meandering through the Rocky Mountains in Colorado and the Sierra Nevada mountains, while we rode and slept in coach seats. We adapted to life on board a train, and fashioned plans to take train trips in the future. We spent two evenings and a full day in the San Francisco area, returning to Chicago on the Zephyr for another 51-hour adventure. We’ve entertained friends by retracing our adventure for them.

After the wedding in Indiana, we delayed driving back to Florida, as someone named Irma visited the state in an unwelcome manner. Upon our return, we had lots of cleanup to do from the trees around our house that the winds thinned out. Our house somehow was spared damage, including the new roof we replaced in July.

I submitted these notes on the morning of the mass shooting in Las Vegas, with the loss of countless lives. Once again, I found myself praying for the victims of this ugly event. This is in contrast to some wonderful people I met in our recent adventure. I find in myself the value of having a personal relationship with the God of the Bible, beyond a religion about God. I find comfort in the good news about my Savior.

TED MANOS, M.D. | ted_manos@yahoo.com

Quotation from a friend of about our age: “I had always thought it would take much longer to get to be this old.”

This was part of an update I received from Duane Starr, but some of our classmates didn’t reach our age. I think mostly of Stephen Thuet, who was killed flying a combat mission over Vietnam. I’ve visited the Vietnam Memorial a number of times, never failing to spend a moment in front of his name etched in the black marble. I remember some of the controversy when the design of the memorial was first released. It’s a profound experience each time, recognizing heroes in a conflict that should never have been. The moment President Kennedy was killed, these heroes were sentenced to their fate.

Interestingly, in preparing my notes, I received sharing from Ron Young ’65 because of a mix-up in classes. In 1995, he attended a meeting of middle-aged anti-war activists and octogenarian former OSS (predecessor organization of the CIA) officers who had served with Ho Chi Minh’s Vietnamese forces fighting the Japanese occupation during the closing months of World War II. The American officers supported Ho’s appeal to President Truman urging U.S. support and recognition for Vietnam’s independence. Truman never replied. Instead, the U.S. financed the French war to recolonize Vietnam. It’s worth reflecting on how our country might be different today if we had recognized Vietnam’s independence in 1945, and initiated normal relations then, rather than 50 years later following our American war.

Chris Chase shared that wife Karen (a non-smoker) was discovered to have a small tumor in her right lung. The mid and lower lobes were removed in early December. Thankfully, neither chemo nor radiation was required. Recovery has been steady, and for this and other reasons, they’ve chosen to enter a retirement community in Hanover, N.H., earlier than planned. With tongue-in-cheek, they find downsizing fun. Chris completed his report with these words: “Still, the last couple of years have had their joys. We have been able to spend time with our now 6-year-old grandson. I have enjoyed reading what I want to and when, from dry treatises on wealth distribution (anyone else read Piketty?) to family documents in Italian, to poetry in Old French, having learned these languages in the last three years.”

Duane Starr and wife Nancy are still living in Oak Ridge, Tenn. Duane retired from Oak Ridge National Laboratory’s Global Security Directorate in 2011 and does occasional work there as a “casual employee.” He puts together computer models of uranium enrichment cascades. His recent work included participation in an assessment of the Molecular Laser Isotope Separation (MLIS) for enriching the 235 isotope of uranium. When he removes his thinking cap, woodworking, hunting, fishing, and singing are his passions. Like others of our mid-70s age, a significant amount of time is spent in doctors’ offices.

Speaking of doctors, Dave Best retired, about three years ago, from a very rewarding practice of nephrology, with a sideline of biomedical ethics. He and his wife have been living at the same address in Virginia Beach, Va., for 41 years. They are building a home in Cape Haze, Fla., hoping to have it ready early next year.

In July 2016, Dan Davis, M.D., retired after 19 years with the FDA Division for Bone, Reproductive, and Urologic Drugs. It was a fine second career after 20 years in private practice in obstetrics and gynecology in western Massachusetts. He enjoys skiing, golf, and tennis, and has been doing some part-time consulting this year. His wife, Suzanne, is an ordained United Church of Christ minister and very busy with her church work. They travel more now and hope to see their three grandkids more often.

I wrote a book about my attending baseball fantasy camps in the 1980s, and I have Hollywood people looking at a possible movie. I became friends with many of the former players from the old Brooklyn Dodgers, and it has been a personal loss when many of them have passed. The amazing thing that happened for me was playing baseball at an incredible level in front of my heroes. In 1986, 16 Hall of Fame legends who coached the campers named me the most valuable player. I called my dad at that time, and his reply was priceless: “Now, you’re MVP?”

TED MANOS, M.D. | ted_manos@yahoo.com

Class of 1964 Endowed Wesleyan Scholarship

Quinn Grom ’19, Belgrade, MT

Once again, I’m coming to you from my trusty recliner, in my man cave, somewhere in the central Florida area. I woke up earlier to a slight chill in the air. Checking my iPhone, the temperature was 49 degrees. It should reach the upper 70s after the noon hour. Looking ahead to the weekend, nighttime temps should be around the 40-degree mark, but only in the 60s by the noon hour. Should I choose to play golf later in the week, 60-degree temp readings mean long pants and shirt sleeves. Any appreciable wind means an extra layer to stay comfortable.

Today was the deadline for submitting my notes. Actually, it was the extended deadline for submission. In all the years of providing my service to my classmates, I’ve always managed to get this information in on time. Well, there hasn’t been much information from classmates, and I believe the election of Donald J. Trump had everyone’s interest. I was going to work on this column earlier, but confirmation hearings in Washington D.C. distracted me. I began to realize that the presidential picks for various cabinet positions carry weight that determines the agenda for our new president, and executive orders and regulations for the various departments impact citizens more than the legislature.

I received an update from Seppo Sailo, and he mentioned art classes we took. He became a painter and it put bread on the table.

Robert Maurer informed us that his debut novel, Passing Through (The Sixties), is available in paperback and e-Book. The opening chapter focuses on the aftermath of the death of Peter Hunting ’63, the first American non-combatant killed in Vietnam. Over the next three years, the intent of four characters is to change the course of American political history. The current climate in American politics would make this novel an interesting read, or at least food for thought.

Food brings me to a lovely evening my wife and I had visiting Chris and Paul Lapuc while they were vacationing at Disney World, along with their son, Douglas, and his wife. Paul works part-time counseling individuals through the conundrums of life, using his experience of a lifetime taking on these challenges.

I had a delightful e-mail from Richard P. Miller, an old fraternity brother, married to Janet for 53 years. They have two daughters, Victoria and Jennifer, who have given them a total of four granddaughters and a grandson. Dick is retired now, having been a publisher of a newspaper in the Detroit metro area. Many years ago, he did an editorial piece about the movie Animal House, where he likened the Tim Matheson character, Otter, a self-appointed stud who became a gynecologist, to yours truly. I didn’t dispute the distinction he suggested.

To close, I’d like to share an e-mail from an old friend retired in Arizona. He sent a quote entitled “Six Ethics of Life”: “Before you pray—believe; before you speak—listen; before you spend—earn; before you write—think; before you quit—try; before you die—live.”

TED MANOS, M.D. | ted_manos@yahoo.com