Tag: 1976

Reminder that if you’re on Facebook, there are two groups that might be of interest to you:  “Wesleyan 1976” and “Wesleyan in the 70s” (the more active of the two).

Thanks to everyone who wrote in with notes!

Debra Hafner writes: “My life has changed pretty dramatically post-COVID. I’ve gotten divorced and I’m moving from Reston, Virginia, to be the interim minister at the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Huntington, New York, in August. I’m excited about the new possibilities ahead! Since our services are now online each week, I’d be delighted to have classmates join us at 10:30 a.m. EST on Sundays! I’d also love to connect with anyone who lives on Long Island. It’s a bit daunting to move at 67 to a new community!”

Mike Donnella reports: “My second attempt at retirement did not stick, and I just finished my first year teaching and running the Center for Compliance & Ethics at Temple University Law School. Though a different time and place from Wesleyan, I am enjoying the experience, despite the occasional flashback. Guest speakers are welcome at the Center. Let me know.”

Phyllis Bethel is “[e]njoying semi-retirement from music therapy. Our son graduated from Princeton and our daughter is a rising sophomore at Vassar. Tina and I are counting our blessings having avoided COVID thus far. Can’t believe I am going to my 50th high school reunion!”

Oliver Griffith: “I’m still living in Paris after retiring from the World Bank in 2016 and should get my French citizenship in the near future. I find France to be a far more rational country than the U.S. I continue to write freelance for NGOs, corporations, and international organizations, but am also doing a lot more performing in Parisian jazz clubs. I combine this with travel around Europe, which was great during COVID with far fewer tourists, and more recently worldwide in Club Meds (free vacations). A couple of months ago, I had dinner with classmates Alida Jay and Meg Walker, who had been with me in Paris 48 years (!!) earlier for the Wesleyan Program in Paris.”

Carol Bellhouse says: “We have snow on the mountains (August 10) so I’ll be heading back to my winter home in southern New Mexico soon. It’s been a great summer in Colorado—I’m attaching photos of the fresh snow, the moon in the aspens, and my waking view every morning. Love it here, but not so much when there’s 12 feet of snow on the ground!”

Barb Birney is ‘[l]ooking forward to celebrating my 50th high school reunion in Amherst, Massachusetts. Following that, I’ll be visiting my 97-year-old parents in Virginia. Dad is Bob Birney ’50. Post-COVID retirement activities are a lot more fun with restrictions lifted. Currently, I volunteer at the Mount St. Helen’s Forestry Learning Center. Interpreting a BIG BOOM story is always effortless.”

Rob Buccino is “[s]emi-retired and splitting time between Manhattan and northwest Connecticut, playing a lot of music, gardening, and daydreaming. Daughter Nora just got an MBA from NYU and started working with McKinsey. Shout-out to David Apicella and the Eclectic crew from way back when.

David Harmin and I have had a wonderful summer taking part in mini-reunions. We got together for lunch in Rockport with Karen Gervasoni and her new husband, Greg Horan, Mel Blake, Beth Penney Gilbert, and—of course!—Tom Kovar. (For me, it’s not a reunion unless Tom is there.) Everyone is well. We were evenly split between those of us who are still working and those who were retired. I have to say that the retired group made an excellent argument for joining them! Karen and Greg are taking off on a cross-country road trip in their camper van, seeing America before winter sets in. We’ve also seen Nina Rusinow Rosenstein, her husband Simon, Marjorie Allen Dauster, and Rip Dauster ’74 for our semiannual get-together; all are well and, once again, enjoying retirement.

Nic Collins sent in class notes! It’s his first time; I’m hoping other classmates will decide if Nic can do it, they can do it too. Here’s his report:

“This may be the first time I have ever submitted to the alumni magazine. Which puts me in a poor light indeed, considering the depth of my gratitude and affection for my Wesleyan experience. Given Karen’s carte blanche on length for this online issue, some background might be in order. I met Alvin Lucier on my third day on campus at the end of summer in 1972. I performed at his memorial service in New York two months ago. In the 50 intervening years, I dragged my family around the world on ‘nothing more than boops and beeps,’ in the words of one puzzled friend—despite our cheerful dean (Sheila Tobias?) calling me into her office in the fall of our senior year to confess, “Wesleyan doesn’t have a great job-placement record for electronic music majors.”

“Maybe not, but I survived (marginally at times, I admit) thanks to what Wes provided. I met Susan Tallman ’79 in the Arts Center, married her in Essex, raised said family with her (Ted, b. 1990 in NYC; Charlotte, b. 1995 Amsterdam), and we’re still together. I was lucky to grab a Watson Fellowship on the way out of Middletown, which sprinkled me around Europe for a year. San Francisco in the late 70s, NYC’s East Village in the 80s, Amsterdam and Berlin in the 90s. In 1999, running on freelance fumes with two kids in international schools, I accepted a teaching job at The School of the Art Institute of Chicago. I wrote a book on hardware hacking for music, now in its third edition (see http://www.handmadeelectronicmusic.com), whose resulting sounds would be familiar to anyone who took a class with Lucier.

“The pandemic coincided with a sabbatical that should have been spent back in Berlin but instead confined me to the old family summer house in West Falmouth, Massachusetts. I can’t complain, but it was not the most musically conducive location for an urbanite until, in those fraught months between the election and the inauguration, I somehow managed to produce this: http://www.nicolascollins.com/LuckyDip.htm.

“Not to finish on a down note but, speaking of fraught, I’ve never been as worried about the future of this country and the larger world as I have in the last five years. I’m keeping my Chilean passport current, renting a small apartment in Berlin, and hoping that one of these two lifeboats can float me if things get even grimmer. But what am I leaving to my children?”

And, finally, Seth Lerer sent me this lovely piece, entitled “Bicentennial: A Wesleyan Memory”:

“There were weeks when every day could be a poem. Sunrise, sunset, a great sandwich, or a blade of grass. My undergraduate ambition was to take the sublime and the stupid and turn it into poetry, to live a life rewarded in the verbal transformation of the everyday into the eternal. I’d spend hours looking for such inspirations, walking corridors, standing in the rain, or orchestrating crazy things to do that would be done just for the memory of having done them: a 2am mock Bar Mitzvah in the dorm, a drive to Montreal for breakfast, a staying-up-all-night reading the Aeneid out loud in Latin.

“In the spring of 1975, I realized that the opportunity was there, at last, for something lasting. I don’t know how I heard about it, or even if I knew what to expect, but I became convinced that spending April 18 on the common in Concord, remembering the ride of Paul Revere, the shots heard round the world—that this would be the moment that would make me a poet.

“Again, it was so long ago I don’t remember how I planned this trip or how I got there. But I do remember that I asked a girl to go along. Her name was Pam, and I cannot conjure up our friendship or why I asked her (did I ask her first or last?). But somehow, Pam and I got on the Peter Pan bus from Middletown, Connecticut, and made it to Concord on the night of April 18. I do remember that she wore bell bottom jeans and a white t-shirt with a sweater, and I dressed up in my tweed jacket and my button-down shirt, and as we both walked into Concord common—already, shortly after sunset, filled with people on the grass, playing guitars, having a picnic, dancing—we must have seemed like travelers from another time, beamed in to witness a great moment in history, except missing the date by 200 years.

“There were some speeches. Someone showed up in a tricorn hat. I don’t think Pam and I said much to each other, but by 10 pm or so we were both bored and hungry. Pam’s mother and her stepfather lived somewhere in the Boston area, and she suggested that we crash with them and cadge a meal. We got up off the grass, and walked away, and as we walked, our hands found each other, and our fingers interlocked. Like tendrils looking for a tree, I thought. And at that moment, even though we’d never kissed, we’d never talked romantically, we’d never done a thing—at that moment, it was the most intimate experience I’d ever had, unspoken, unrequested, two hands in the aftermath of a great historical anticlimax.

“We wound up, unannounced, at her house and without seeing her parents, Pam let me sleep in the guest room and she disappeared into what must have been her own, old room. The next morning, having showered but put on the same clothes from the day before, I met her stepfather at breakfast. He was a Chinese man in his 50s, reading the newspaper, and picking at what must have been last night’s chicken dinner. He looked at me, I sat down at the table, and without breaking eye contact, he picked up a whole chicken thigh with a pair of chopsticks and, through some trick of leverage, held it up and split the bone in half, the piece now hanging together by remaining bits of skin and meat, and I could hear that snap, and he brought the whole thigh up to his mouth and took a bite and put the rest down on the plate, and never stopped looking at me.

“Somehow, with or without Pam, I made it back to Middletown. I knew I had my poem in my head, and in an afternoon I wrote it down.

“Bicentennial”

Emerson, obsessed with pageantry,

Saw revolution in sunrise,

Doctrine at dawn.

He saw himself enmeshed in memory

Of dead for liberty

In Concord, crotch of history.

In the moment is the glory,

In the memory is the myth,

In the dream is history.

“I read it out loud to myself a few times, and then typed it up. It looked so clean on the good piece of bond paper, the ribbon from the typewriter, recently replaced, giving each letter a depth and heft that I could feel as I ran my fingers across the sheet. I typed up three or four more poems that day, ones I’d written in a class with Richard Wilbur— mannered, learned things about the clown Will Kempe in Bedlam and the pet fox kept by Stalin’s crony, Nicholai Bukharin, and a couple of translations from Old English. Still on a high, I folded them in thirds and took them to the library, where I found the current issue of The Southern Review and copied out the name and the address of the editor. I ran back to my room, typed up a cover letter and an envelope, put too many stamps on it, and mailed it. No self-addressed stamped envelope, no nothing else. Just the poems.

“Classes would be over in a month, and certainly, as I remember, before we were done, I got a letter in my postbox telling me that The Southern Review was going to run my poem, “Bicentennial,” in their Spring 1976 issue and that I would receive a check for $15 upon publication.

“I floated out of the mail room, walked up the hill and stood facing the football field, the May breeze catching the letter in my hand and making it flutter like a wing.

“A full year later, weeks before graduation, three copies of The Southern Review appeared in my mailbox, along with the check. There was the poem, my name, and my name again in the notes on contributors. I flipped through. There were unpublished poems by Delmore Schwartz, essays by Kermit Vanderbilt, Larzer Ziff, and Albert Guerard. There was a translation of something by Paul Valery and a review of a book of poems by the then barely known Geoffrey Hill.

“Fifteen dollars was a week of student groceries. A round of drinks for virtually everyone I knew. A round-trip ticket to Concord. I sent the poem to Richard Wilbur, ensconced in his pastoral in Cummington, Massachusetts, and he wrote back right away, letting me know how he ‘much liked the movement of Bicentennial’—such a Wilbur phrase, with its inverted word order and its alliterative push. Did he craft such sentences, or did he really think like that? And, rereading my poem, now, what made me think it literature? So full of adolescent overstatement. Who writes a poem with the word “crotch” in it? After over forty years of teaching, I can imagine how Wilbur must have reached deep to say something positive about such lines.

“I graduated, went to Oxford, to Chicago, and to teaching jobs at Princeton, Stanford, and the University of California at San Diego (where I served as dean of Arts and Humanities for five years that would fill a whole magazine, let alone a class note). I wrote a dozen books. I won awards. You would think all of this would have filled me with self-esteem. But then, they say there’s nothing like your first time.”

Meredith Bergmann has been awarded three new sculpture commissions. The first two are in Ithaca, New York—one honors Frances Perkins, FDR’s secretary of labor; the other, Lucy J. Brown, a community activist in Ithaca. The third is in Lexington, Massachusetts, and commemorates the role of women in the Revolution.  Details about the Lexington Monument can be found at https://www.lexseeher.com/monument.

Deborah Malamud has retired from full-time law teaching at New York University School of Law, but will continue teaching seminars. She will thus maintain a home in “law land,” while spending as much of the rest of her time as possible making music, traveling, and being with family and friends. She and her partner of 30-ish years, Neal Plotkin, will continue to divide their time between New York and Ann Arbor.

Byron Haskins writes: “Gabrielle and I are still splitting our time between Quebec and Michigan, but she has obtained somewhat of a dream job in Montreal, so we are fully stationed in a beautiful, almost 100-year old apartment building on the very west end of downtown Montreal. I’m truly trying to learn French for the first time in my life!”

Jack O’Donnell writes: “I’m still practicing law in New Haven and any notion of retiring was dashed when I got very sick in September. Being idle for two months reinforced how much I need the action of criminal defense work! Retirement goes on the back burner again!!”

Elyse Grasso writes: “If you look at the map of the damage from the December 30th Marshall Fire in Boulder, Colorado, my house was basically at the geographical center. I lost the house and its contents, but I got out safely and I’m settled into a temporary place while I make plans to rebuild. The view didn’t burn.”

Dan Henry writes: “My wife Jean and I have been blessed by the arrival of our fourth grandchild, Imogen Anne Henry on February 3. I continue to do a small amount of tech support for people and businesses. Two years ago, I switched to remote support only to eliminate the hassle and time of travel as well as to avoid COVID-19.”

Larry Davis and his wife Ronna managed to sneak away to Slovenia and Austria between the delta and omicron waves for some fly-fishing and general tourism. Otherwise, Larry still works part time as a senior advisor and chief scientist at MAP Energy and as a volunteer with several nonprofit organizations in Oklahoma City. Larry has been able to stay tangentially involved with the Earth and Environmental Science Department at Wes and is involved with the Middletown/Wesleyan Chabad House.

David E. Cohen and his wife Sandy have raised three kids in New Jersey, now (almost all) launched into the world. David is slowly sliding into semi-retirement from his medical practice and will soon be relocating to the Berkshires. David enjoys wood carving, boating, boatbuilding, and genealogy, and has been doing research for a book on some interesting local history in the Berkshires. In September 2021, David and Sandy spent a fantastic weekend in Woods Hole with Matt Paul, Stewart Shuman, and Michael Greenberg and their wives for their annual gathering, sharing memories, wine, great food, spirited conversation about science and politics, and a pretty long bike ride.

Rob Briskin writes: “I’m still in solo concierge-style practice in internal medicine in Jupiter and live in beautiful Palm Beach Gardens, Florida. My wife Limor and I have four kids, two 12-year-old twins, a 24-year-old son, and a 26-year-old daughter. Keeping busy with the twins, pickleball (my new passion), and some tennis. Doesn’t make sense to retire at this point, plus I enjoy practicing, so will continue for the foreseeable future!”

Peter Hansen writes: “My wife and I continue to be based in DC and are slowly easing into retirement. We both still get enough emails and calls from clients so that we’re not quite ready to quit doing marketing (me) and public health (her). Fortunately, there’s enough flexibility so that we can devote our talents to helping other causes that we care about: a group that focuses on providing opportunities for underserved youth in DC,  animal welfare organizations, and a group (31ststreet.org) that is all about developing voting infrastructure at a grass roots level in key states across the country. Many of you would probably be interested in the latter and should go look at what we do. Along the way we find time to visit the grandkids in NYC and also get to Seattle to see our daughter. And locally I’m always up for a bike tour of the monuments in DC with anyone who is in town!  We managed to cross paths with Jon Daniels in Phoenix last fall and also took a bike trip with several friends including Jeff Shaw ’78 last fall.”

B.J. Buckley writes: “My chapbook, In January, the Geese, recently won the Comstock Review’s 35th Anniversary Poetry Contest and will be published in April 2022. I’ve also had, after a long ‘drought,’ a number of poems accepted this past year by a variety of fun and interesting journals, among them Plant-Human Quarterly, Calyx, Sugar House Review, Dogwood, SWWIM Everyday, Pine Row, Whitefish Review, and ellipsis.”

Rob Williams writes: “After 32 years of working in South Jersey, I moved to Maui. Unfortunately, I’m not here to retire but to work. As of now I’m the only infectious disease doc on the island working in the only hospital. I’ve been here a year, and I’m very busy, but I’m enjoying the island. I’m committed to at least working here five more years. I’m expecting visits from my eight grandkids and any old classmates who would like to visit. Rumor has it that Blaise Noto ’74 is living here but I haven’t found him. Also, I apparently got here right before Dr. Elliot Epner left.”

Mark Berger writes: “I’m pleased to report that I recently started a new job, as I just wasn’t anywhere near ready to retire.  I’m the chief medical officer for Genprex, a small but promising biotech company. Since I’ve spent over 25 years in the pharmaceutical and biotech industries working to develop new oncology therapies, this is an extension of my previous work. To me, the strategy of oncology drug development has been endlessly interesting and challenging, and I consider myself lucky to have fallen into this field.

“I’ve also been lucky to still be married to Jane Eisner ’77, who’s presently working at Columbia Journalism School. We’ve lived in New York City for 10 years, after 30 years in the Philadelphia area, and proximity to our two grandchildren in Brooklyn is a big benefit to our Manhattan location. Our oldest daughter Rachel (’06) and her husband Ari take care of the grandchildren when we’re not spoiling them. Rachel is in charge of nutrition for New York City’s Department of Aging. Our other two daughters live in Washington, DC, where Amalia, our middle daughter, is a nurse practitioner, and our youngest, Miriam (’12) works on the foreign desk of The Washington Post.

“Note that the true definition of family planning is that Rachel’s Wes reunions are the same year as mine from ’76, and Miriam’s Wes reunions are the same year as Jane’s from ’77.  Who could possibly have imagined that as a Wes undergraduate!”

Carol Bellhouse writes: “I bought a winter home in southern New Mexico. It’s on a hill with a massive rock wall so it looks like I live in a castle! Loving it—lakes, hot springs, artist community, and lots of sunshine!

David Harmin, Tom Kovar, and I took advantage of the brief pandemic cease-fire in October and returned to Wesleyan for Homecoming. We never got around to attending official events, but spent the time wandering around campus, hoping that the three of us could cobble together clear memories of our college experience. It’s a wonderful experience being there; a sudden fragrance or play of light and you can be immediately transported back to your college years. For the three of us, the Arts Center particularly brought back visceral memories; the minute we stepped into a stairwell in the music building, I could just hear Nic Collins practicing his sax. I mention this as a (not terribly subtle) way of reminding you that our 50th Reunion is around the corner. I’d strongly encourage you to attend, even if you cut ties with Wesleyan in June ’76 and never looked back. It’s good to remember what an extraordinary place it was—and is!

Byron Haskins and his wife Gabrielle have moved to Montreal so that Gabrielle can take her dream job. They’ll be figuring how to split their lives between Montreal and their home base of Lansing. What a wonderful adventure!

Sue (Feinstein) Barry and her husband Dan spent the pandemic in Arlington, Massachusetts caring for their granddaughter. Sue also finished her second book, which was published by Basic Books, last June. It’s titled Coming to Our Senses: A Boy Who Learned to See, A Girl Who Learned to Hear, and How We All Discover the World.

Joe Mabel has retired from the software industry and is working with soprano Juliana Brandon on the Weill Project (http://weillproject.com/), dedicated to the work of composer Kurt Weill  (1900–1950). They have created 15 original guitar-and-vocal arrangements of Weill songs, and have also plunged into a critical and historical study of Weill’s life and work. They’re putting together a series of academic lectures and demonstrations with collaborator German artist Yvette  Endrijautzki, which will include visual art related to, or inspired by, Weill and his songs. Their first major performance will be February 2022 in Seattle. They hope to showcase the amazing range of Weill’s work, from opera to cabaret to Broadway, and from innovative expressionist music to tangos and foxtrots. In addition to several songs from Threepenny Opera and his other collaborations with Bertolt Brecht, they will perform two lesser-known environmental protest songs from 1928. They’re also working up two songs he wrote in France between leaving Germany and coming to America, as well as a World War II Allied propaganda song he co-wrote with Howard Dietz, and three Broadway songs he co-wrote with Ogden Nash.

Oliver Griffith is still living in Paris after retiring from his last job at the World Bank in 2016. He is doing some freelance writing for NGOs and French companies, and regularly playing in jazz clubs.

Debra Haffner is leaving her position as minister at the Unitarian Universalist Church in Reston after five years. She’s returning to a community ministry of teaching, writing, preaching, and consulting, primarily in areas related to congregations and sexuality issues. She’s not ready to retire: “I have at least one more professional act in me.”

Leslie Anderson, reference librarian at Alexandria Library, Local History/Special Collections, was recently named a Virginia Humanities Scholar by the Virginia Foundation for the Humanities and the Afro-American Historical and Genealogical Society. Twenty scholars were selected on the basis of their expertise in history and genealogy, framed within an understanding of the African American experience. Leslie served as the Project Editor for the Virginia Slave Births Index, 1853–1865, which has become a standard reference work in public and special libraries.

Adrienne Scott writes: “After 22 years, raising 2 bonus children and now 5 grands, my husband and I are divorcing. I retired from college administration and an adjunct faculty position and enjoy part-time English language tutoring, specializing in work with local indigenous tribes, which I will return to in the fall. Here in Roseville, California, in 2016, a local TV station acknowledged my work as the first African American television news reporter in Rhode Island in 1977, by doing a story on my personal interview with Muhammad Ali and how he gave me an exclusive. ‘He took care of his community,’ I said, because he knew how disrespected I was, and that I was told by my news director that Rhode Island isn’t ready for a black anchorperson. The flirtatious Ali took away some of the sting of racism.”

Deb Neuman lost her husband Paul last year after 35 years of marriage. She remains in Mystic, and continues to work as the VP of Advancement for Enders Island, a beautiful Catholic retreat in Mystic that has a small residential community for young men in recovery from addiction. She notes that participating in the 40th and 45th Wesleyan Reunion committees and renewing acquaintances with fellow alumni has been a positive experience.

Cathy Popkin has officially retired after 35 years in the Columbia Slavic Department. She recently became a grandparent and is dividing her time between New York and New Hampshire. She adds: “Happy to be alive.”

Robert Osborne continues teaching voice in the music departments of Vassar College and Columbia University/Barnard College.

Joe Mingolla writes: “After Wesleyan, I attended and graduated law school at Boston College.  Subsequently, I returned to the place where I grew up, St. Thomas, US Virgin Islands. I worked for my family’s construction company for a few years and then, in 1990, I opened my own practice and right from the start my career took off. I ran a boutique criminal law practice focused on primarily federal crimes and appeals taking place in the Caribbean and Florida. The Caribbean is the sunny place for shady people! Lots of cartel people, money laundering, and con men down there. My slogan was “Reasonable doubt at a reasonable price!”

“Meanwhile, in 2001 I met my future wife, Lia. She was a senior executive with a Canadian bank and was assigned to head up the Compliance Division for the banks in our region, where she used to find money launderers, have the FBI bust them, and then, often enough, the miscreant would come crying to me for help! It was a beautiful thing!

“We married in Stowe, Vermont, in 2005 and have been living happily ever after. When Lia was reassigned to headquarters in Toronto in 2012, I was burnt out on my criminal practice, and so we relocated to Toronto, and after she retired we left Toronto to live in the country on Lake Ontario. I love Canada and its people very much. I’m becoming a dual citizen. Too much craziness in America right now.

“During the past 45 years, I traveled extensively, learned to fly, collected exotic and classic cars (25 or so), rode motorcycles until this year, became an expert scuba diver, sailor, and yachtsman. We have no children, but few regrets.

“I’ve been writing humorous short stories for a few years and living a quiescent life. It’s such a contrast with how I used to live, but the ubiquitous stress that was my daily companion is no longer extant. Who would have predicted that I would enjoy tending our flower gardens?”

Leslie Gabel-Brett continues to teach a course each spring at Wesleyan called “Social Activism and Theories of Change.” She adds that she gains a little dose of hope and optimism each year by meeting students who are ready to change the world. She has retired from her other work obligations and looks forward to being with Carolyn and her family to see what retired people really do all week.

Bruce Demple writes: “In mid-June, my wife Sue Avery and I made our first foray out of New York state since March 2020. There was a time when staying so close to home for that long might have seemed unremarkable, but over the years we had gotten quite used to frequent trips away, both for professional and for personal reasons. This time, we had a ‘tour’ of our long-time home, Massachusetts, staying with four different sets of friends not seen for the past 15 months or more. It was sublime! We started by spending a long weekend with our dear friends, classmate Rich Gallogly and Bonnie Katz ’77 (whose expected in-person Reunion next year we certainly plan to crash!). We lived within 2 miles of each other in Newton for almost 20 years, and our children grew up together. We then stopped with a former Harvard colleague in Brookline, in order to celebrate a colleague and close friend—our former department chair—who passed away in May 2020. From there it was down to Martha’s Vineyard, where a close friend from Exeter has a wonderful house. He generously invited us and three other couples  (including none other than Danny Ruberman ’77 and his wife Anne) to spend a week there, ahead of the arrival of their three sons and their children. This group usually meets up in the winter in Maine for a ski trip, which in fact was our last out-of-state trip in early March 2020. So this year’s gathering was a much warmer consolation prize, with ample conviviality, aptly described by our host as ‘several days of hiking, biking, dining and general carrying on.’ Our last stay was in Grafton, with a very close friend from the very first days of grad school in Berkeley, and his wife—they were also the last folks we stayed with before coming home for so many months. And we finished with a stop in . . . Middletown! That was to visit Anthony Infante, with whom I did my senior thesis research, and the person I credit with sending me irreversibly on the road to being a biochemist. We have remained friends, but last saw him only on the occasion of our 40th Reunion. He is well, and very sharp, and 90 minutes together was nowhere near enough.”

Sid Cohen recently retired after a career in academic medicine and biomedical research, and now consults for medical device companies working on cardiovascular devices. Sid and his wife reside in Pleasanton, California, where he is an avid gardener, photographer, and amateur radio operator, and also stays busy with home projects. Retirement has allowed him to pursue interests he never had a chance to enjoy while working, such as music and art. Sid has two grandchildren; he adds that they “are a delight to watch grow although taking on the role of grandparent, while delightful, it is a bit sobering. I wish all my 1976 classmates happiness and health.”

Nat Needle teaches piano to about 40 students, ages 5 to 75 in Worcester, Massachusetts, which, he writes, “is home to the whole world. My students look pretty much like the city. Until now, their work with me has been one-on-one. However, the spirit of mutual support at our (second online)  June 2021 recital made me think more seriously of how much nurturance and inspiration they would receive from connection with one another throughout the year. That vision is even more compelling because of barriers that would ordinarily exist between them in society being lowered thanks to this special vehicle they all have in common. So, as we enter ‘post-pandemic life,’ we’ll be co-creating our own ‘piano college,’ blending online and in-person activity. As we musicians like to say, stay tuned.”

Bob Craft reports that after 35 years in Los Angeles, he and his family have moved to Portland, Oregon. He says: “Now it’s time to enjoy my retirement.”

Finally, I am sad to report that Winifred Van Roden ’77 passed away on June 6, 2021.