Cornell Report
Hangouts Through The Years

When the Mount Vernon Fire Department roars into action, chances are that one of its five Cornell student volunteers will be on the call. See page 8.







Hangouts Through The Years
When the Mount Vernon Fire Department roars into action, chances are that one of its five Cornell student volunteers will be on the call. See page 8.
Small credited Cornell for giving him the confidence to build a highly successful career and, as importantly, for introducing him to his wife, Norma. He believed so strongly in Cornell that he gave his alma mater decades of volunteer leadership and a large portion of his wealth.
“Dick, with Norma, loved Cornell right down to his core, and this is an enormous loss for us. Cornell simply would not be what it is today without Richard and Norma. Their impact on Cornell is profound, reaching every corner of campus. Among Cornellians, no name elicits more appreciation than Richard Small’s,” said Cornell President Jonathan Brand.
Small served on the Cornell Board of Trustees for more than 50 years. He and Norma, an honorary alumna and honorary trustee, donated more than $39 million to Cornell, supporting virtually every major college priority over the past four decades.
Richard Small was born in Cleveland, Ohio, and later lived in south suburban Chicago. During the Great Depression his family was twice evicted from their homes.
Small was just 17 years old in May of 1946, about to graduate from high school in Harvey, Illinois, when he made a decision that would have major repercussions. In study hall one day he asked the classmate ahead of him if he was going to college. “Yes, to Cornell College,” said Campbell McConnell (who graduated from Cornell in 1950 and went on to write the world’s most widely read economics textbook). To which Small said, “Maybe I’ll go there too.”
Small later said the most important thing he learned at Cornell was self-confidence.
“Cornell increased my self-esteem and my confidence that I would be a success after graduating,” he said in a 2015 Cornell Report Q&A article.
At Cornell, Small began majoring in economics and business and earned a letter as student manager of the cross country team coached by the charismatic Paul K. Scott ’29. At the end of the season Scott, also the wrestling coach, encouraged Small to come out for wrestling. Small did, and that decision placed him on the legendary 1947 team that won both the NCAA and AAU national championships. Although he wasn’t a starter that year, in 1949 Small won the Midwest Conference title at 165 pounds.
Small ’50, whose impact on Cornell College places him among the giants in college history, was remembered as generous and humble following his death at age 93 on Nov. 15, 2022.1950 Royal Purple
“My appreciation of being able to be part of that great team and being able to wrestle the following years is the basis of my loyalty to Cornell College,” Small said in a 70th anniversary story about the team.
Scott later became Cornell’s alumni director and in 1974 introduced Small to Norma Thomas, then the alumni office manager. They married in 1975.
In 1952 Small founded Cheker Oil Company with a lease on an abandoned gas station in Olympia Fields, Illinois. The oil marketing firm grew to a network of more than 200 stations in 18 states and also owned hotels, industrial parks, and investment properties, as
well as high rise condominiums and resort property at Marco Island, Florida.
As he grew his business he continued his education at the Harvard Business School Advanced Management Program for senior executives and Northwestern University Graduate School of Business Administration. Small rose in the industry to serve on the boards of the Society of Independent Gasoline Marketers of America and the Midwest Petroleum Marketers Association.
In 1983 he sold his interest in Cheker to Marathon Petroleum Corporation and in 1984 began a new career as chairman and majority stockholder of Florida-based Tri-Star Aerospace Inc., a distributor of aircraft hardware and fluid system components used in the aerospace industry. Upon the sale in 1996 of most of his shareholdings, he retired as CEO but continued as vice chairman of the board.
He served on two bank boards in the Chicago area and provided years of service to the Red Cross, Boy Scouts of America, the American Cancer Society, St. James Hospital, the Chicago Conference for Brotherhood, and the Chicago Petroleum Council’s City of Hope project.
His love of wrestling kept him involved with that sport as well. He was a founding governor of the National Wrestling Hall of Fame in Stillwater, Oklahoma.
Since 1992 he and Norma lived in Tulsa, Oklahoma, where they were members of the Boston Avenue United Methodist Church.
Small was a lifelong member of the United Methodist Church and was honored in 2000 with the Stanley S. Kresge Award, presented annually by the United Methodist Foundation for Christian Higher Education for unselfish support of United Methodist higher education. The award recognized his long leadership and support of Cornell College.
One of the speakers at the Kresge award dinner was Cornell College Professor of Politics Craig Allin, who noted that if Cornell College were ever renamed in honor of the Smalls, “... it would be an impressive promotion in status to go from being ‘a small liberal arts college’ to being ‘The Small Liberal Arts College.’ ”
Small was actively involved with the United Methodist Church wherever he resided. He led various local church agencies concerned with the role and status of women, religion and race, and inter-religious understanding and cooperation. With Norma he was honored as Outstanding Leaders for Higher Education by the Oklahoma Conference of the United Methodist Church.
His conviction that the mission
of the college and the mission of the church are closely allied led him in 2000 to initiate and endow the SmallThomas Lecture Series “Dreams of Peace, Visions of the Future,” which has brought to campus speakers including U.S. Rep. Jesse Jackson Jr., Sean Farren, Edwina Gately, the Rev. Raphael Warnock, Amina Wadud, and Dolores Huerta. The lecture series’ goal is to build a community where people of all cultures and religions enjoy respect and the ability to develop understanding and support of one another. The Smalls believed in that goal and often traveled to campus for the lectures.
Prior to founding the lecture series, Small heard Samuel Proctor, pastor emeritus of Abyssinian Baptist Church in New York City, and arranged for Proctor to speak at Cornell. Proctor then taught a course at Cornell and received an honorary doctor of humane letters, the college’s highest honor.
Both Richard and Norma have family ties to Cornell. Richard’s brother, Robert, graduated in 1954. Norma’s parents, Cecil and June Thomas, lived in Mount Vernon where her father was Cornell’s superintendent of building
and grounds until his retirement. Each has a child who graduated from Cornell: Richard’s daughter, Marcia Small ’75, and Norma’s son, Michael Burk ’83. Richard’s grandsons Cole Hydrick ’14 and Jesse Small ’24; and Norma’s granddaughter, Lyndsey Burk ’13, niece, Victoria Thomas ’98, and nephew Sean Thomas ’96, are also alumni.
Small was first elected to the Cornell College Board of Trustees in 1971, the year his daughter entered Cornell. He served until 1981 and again from 1986 to 1999, chairing the Board from 1993 to 1996. As chair he led its members in a serious examination of its strategic focus and operations, resulting in new enthusiasm, improved efficiency, and a clear sense of direction.
“Dick was a great board leader, decisive and direct,” recalls Gib Drendel ’58, a past Board Chair who served for many years with Small. “I recall a committee meeting to consider a trustee’s minimum annual financial contribution. A consensus figure seemed to be reached when Dick quickly interjected. ‘It should be twice that amount.’ And quickly the new annual gift became Dick’s figure.
“In spite of his financial success, Dick never strayed far from his humble childhood. We held summer Trustee
Richard and Norma in 1990 during a gala dinner in the sports center that bears their name, announcing a challenge gift of $20 million to launch a $60 million campaign for the college. At the time it was one of the largest gifts ever given to a U.S. undergraduate institution. Richard and Norma in 2018 with the Ram statue, then a new feature in front of the Richard and Norma Small Athletic and Wellness Center.work sessions at our home providing sandwiches and lunch. If a sandwich was left, Dick would slip it in his briefcase ‘for the plane ride home.’ ”
In a tribute to the Smalls during the college’s Sesquicentennial in 2003, fellow Trustee Mary Bowman Seidler ’61 described a couple that leaves an indelible impact.
“No group of Cornellians can ever mention Cornell—its past, present, and future—without speaking warmly, even joyously, about Norma and Dick,” she said. “There simply are no perfectly crafted words to adequately describe all they have given to our world, including to this fortunate institution, Cornell College. Every square inch of this campus and its buildings speak their names. Their presence permeates our classrooms and the many intangibles that make Cornell what it is.”
While Small preferred to build the endowment for the long-term health of the college, he and Norma stepped forward with lead gifts for numerous immediate capital needs. The Smalls’ have been major donors on every Cornell capital project since 1985, including an unprecedented $20 million challenge gift in 1990.
His and Norma’s support extends from the Richard and Norma Small Athletic and Wellness Center (the SAW) to the Thomas Commons, and encompasses fine arts, residence halls, the library, and academic buildings. They established the first endowed faculty chair, and their most recent multi-million dollar gifts were for the Science Facilities Project and the Athletic and Wellness Facilities Project.
Why did Richard Small support Cornell so generously?
“Attending Cornell changed my life,” he said during the Cornell Report Q&A interview. “Cornell has always been very good but is better since One Course At A Time. Few Cornell College students have come from wealthy families, so those of us who are wealthy must do as much as possible for Cornell.”
In 2000 Richard Small received Cornell’s highest honor, the honorary degree doctor of humane letters. These words, read by then-President Les Garner, captured then as now the sentiments Cornellians will always feel for Small:
“Today your college honors you as one who exemplifies our highest ideals, and we applaud you as one who stands among the giants in the history of Cornell. You have given much of your life to strengthening your college and your church, thus investing yourself in institutions that change lives and create a better world.
“Words cannot express our gratitude for what you have done for all of us. Surely future generations will join us in heartfelt appreciation for your leadership and generosity.”
Small is survived by his wife of 47 years Norma Thomas Small, daughter Marcia Small ’75 (Don Hydrick), sons Steven (Laura Tyus) Small and Jeff (Susan) Small, Norma’s son Michael (Jane) Burk ’83, seven grandchildren (including Cornellians Jesse Small ’24, Cole Hydrick ’14, and Lyndsey Burk ’13), and three great-grandchildren. Other Cornellians he leaves are nephew Sean Thomas ’96 and niece Victoria Thomas ’98
These are a few of the responses the college received upon news of Richard Small’s death.
Heartbreak and enormous gratitude all at the same time.
—Sheryl Atkinson Stoll ’70
Every Cornell heart is heavy today. Richard was a special person and we will all miss him.
—Keith “Turp” North ’60
Richard was a tremendous advocate for the college and an unbelievably generous person.
—Deidre J. Franzen ’15
I was at Cornell from 1990–1993. They indeed had such a big impact on my education and experience at Cornell College!
—Jodi Meusel ’93
Quite the gentleman and quite the Cornellian. —Jim Brown ’68 He was a respected classmate.
—Cathryn Millar Karlin ’50
He transformed the campus with his generosity. —Doug Hay ’85 RIP Richard Small … your contribution to Cornell College has and will continue to have an incredible impact on young people’s lives. That is an awesome legacy.”
—Tim Maaske ’76
Dick personified the term ‘humble philanthropist.’ It was an honor to work with him over the years. His legacy to our alma mater is unprecedented.
—Allan Ruter ’76
EDITOR
Dee Ann Rexroat ’82 drexroat@cornellcollege.edu
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RESPONDING TO THE 18 THINGS TO LOVE ABOUT CORNELL STORY
Andrea Troester Cornish ’95
The friendships that I gained at Cornell are priceless–and timeless.
Elinor Levin ’09
One of the hardest things in my time at Cornell was figuring out who to walk with at graduation!
Emma Egner ’10
This list is making me homesick!
RESPONDING TO A STORY ON A RECIPIENT OF THE MARY BOWMAN SEIDLER ’61 ENDOWED SCHOLARSHIP
Professor Emeritus of Psychology Sue Astley
Mary Bowman Seidler has done SO much for the college and students. Glad to learn of this.
I read with interest the article about things to love about the campus. The reference to affinity seating says it started in 1973, but it started before that. It may not have been called affinity seating, but my class of 1971 sat with our closest friends. I remember there was a signup sheet, and we just put our names in the available slots. That was back when Commencement was held on the lawn in front of King Chapel.
Mark Powell ’71
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Minneapolis, Minnesota
PRIDE TIMELINE
When I returned for my 50th Cornell reunion, I attended the Pride Luncheon and was stunned to realize that I was at Cornell before I knew anything about homosexuality, before anyone else was out, and before gay pride was a thing (the Stonewall uprising was in ’69). I was there before the Pride Timeline (fall 2022 issue) started! There were 12 of us at the lunch from 1999, 2005, 2012, and 1972. The Pride Timeline is reflective of what we discussed. In my class, one other person has come out.
Thanks for publishing the Pride timeline, and for adding to my reflection about how the history of gay rights is so present in my own life.
Pam Rechel ’72 Portland, OregonBE PART OF THE CONVERSATION
We are delighted to publish letters and social media mentions. Tag @cornellcollege to be considered on social media. Send letters to cornellreport@cornellcollege.edu or Cornell Report, Box 1648, 600 First St. SW, Mount Vernon, IA 52314-1098. Submissions are edited for style, length, and clarity.
“As I intern in the state of tech titans and take on big challenges that threaten to flatten me like an ant mound, I realize it’s easy to focus on the giant problems that can break you. Instead, I focus on why I’m here and the giants all around me who both support and build me up every day.”
Henry Morray ’23, on his experience as a Bahnick Fellowin
Biotechnology at Aquillius Corporation, San Diego, California.
WHEN THE MOUNT VERNON FIRE DEPARTMENT ROARS into action, chances are that one of its five Cornell student volunteers will be on the call.
Fire Chief Nathan Goodlove has spent nearly 25 years on Mount Vernon’s volunteer fire department and never has he seen such a large influx of Cornell student volunteers. While he had some reservations about bringing on so many short-term recruits, he said the five students were self-starters.
“They knocked it out of the park. We just told them, ‘here are the expectations and what you have to do,’ and they did it,” Goodlove said. “They ask a lot of questions, are super interested, and see our overall mission for the community. It’s been really, really good for us.”
One of the five also volunteers for the Lisbon-Mount Vernon Ambulance Service, and two additional students serve on the ambulance service with her. Jacob Lindauer, director of the ambulance service, said the students tend to be great team members because they’re excited to learn and go on calls.
The students join three Cornell alumni on the Fire Department: Jacob Buster ’16, Peter Weber ’22 , and Mehrdad Zarifkar ’09; and four on the ambulance crew: Sarah Brungard Clough ’07, Dominique Fleming ’18, Eric Medenblik ’21, and Jim Wallace ’68
Many of the students were recruited through Cornell’s Safety Week, which brings the local police, state patrol, ambulance, and fire departments on campus. They also heard about the opportunities through other students, faculty advisors, and the Berry Career Institute.
Darren Mancke ’24 is a biochemistry and molecular biology major whose academic advisor encouraged him to pursue the ambulance service for hands-on exposure to health care. “I am thankful I was directed to join the service because this is something I’ve become passionate about, and I continue to learn more about EMS each day,” he said.
Engineering major and football player Mason Ciari ’25 joined to help fill his time in the off-season. One year in, he thinks firefighting is a possible career, possibly combined with engineering.
“There are a lot of things that being part of the fire department has given me—most importantly the tight-knit community. I get another family by being a part of the fire department,” Ciari said.
The ambulance service requests 36 on-call hours each month, and most of the students come to the station and do homework during their shifts. The fire department assigns each member to one of nine crews on call every ninth night.
“These are the only times we are ‘required’ to go to calls, but in our department there is no one on call during the day, thus there is a responsibility to go to calls when you aren’t busy,” said Dane Markegard ’24 of the fire department. “I haven’t missed much class or practice for cross country or track to run a call. But depending on the severity of the incident, we are prepared to sacrifice certain engagements to respond.”
Markegard said his fire service has matured him: “Just being around adults who are further through their life than me is a priceless opportunity. Many of the calls I have been on have given me perspective on how limited and precious life really is, which is easy to lose sight of in normal college life. These experiences on calls and through the community
of the department have helped me mature in a way I wouldn’t be able to without it.”
Elinor Ascher-Handlin ’25, who volunteers for both the fire and ambulance services, said she was shaped the most by one of her first calls, to an elderly woman whose caregiver wasn’t taking good care of her.
“I just will never forget how disappointed I was that she was being treated that way and couldn’t advocate for herself. That really pushed me into being interested in public health and advocacy,” she said. “So often the elderly and disabled are in these situations where they are ignored or abused, and they don’t have an advocate. I want to change that.”
Charles Link ’25 said firefighting has given him a different perspective on life.
“The department has taught me many things, one of which is stepping back and really thinking big picture, something I do very poorly,” Link said. “I tend to become very interested and hyperfocused on a specific aspect of a problem. Firefighting really enabled that full-body, full-picture, full-frame thinking.”
RJ Sutton ’25 considers his service to the fire department a once in a lifetime experience.
“Typically we don’t talk about the things you see out on the job, but it can teach you a lot about life and love. We are not superheroes and we can’t fix everything, but we will try our hardest and when our hard work pulls through, it’s something really special. That’s why we do it.
“It’s an incredibly awesome responsibility to take on. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”
SYNOPSIS
Be a smarter consumer and creator of data visualizations.
“Students are immersed in digital media today,” Hejeebu says. “Data graphs can be misleading and consumed hastily, not allowing enough time to separate the useless parts from the meaningful parts.”
The course aims are twofold: to help students consume content more patiently and coherently by explaining how intentional design choices influence viewers; and to enable students to create more honest and impactful visualizations, through questioning datasets and exploring quantitative relationships.
She starts with the history of data visualization and the basics of visual perception. She then shares broad principles of effective design and develops essential quantitative literacy skills. Hejeebu also instructs students to use data visualization in equitable and inclusive ways.
“We are responsible for the implicit messages our visualizations portray,” she says. “We have to be mindful of how our graphs will be used.”
Students learn through the daily practices of reading visualizations and creating them. Students use tools like Excel and Tableau, Hejeebu
says, as a means to an end and not the end itself. Data visualization tools change over time, but the underlying design principles and quantitative identities remain steady. By the end of the course, even the “numbers shy” students will be comfortable working with quantitative data.
Hejeebu’s interdisciplinary approach draws on economics, descriptive statistics, visual design, and other fields.
“By learning to distinguish between good and bad vizzes, you begin to internalize the Gestalt principles of visualization and understand how the eye sees,” she says.
“A visualization becomes great when you can communicate the takeaways that are of interest to the target audience.”
—DREW LOGEL ’23
“Effective visualizations tell the story I want to tell about the data.”
—MIKE KNIGHT ’23
“Data Visualization taught me how to illustrate quantitative data in a way that maximizes the speed and depth of viewer comprehension.”
—KIMBERLY MAITLAND ’24
The redline map (the practice of outlining areas with sizable Black populations in red ink on maps as a warning to mortgage lenders) of Richmond, Virginia, was developed for the Homeowners’ Loan Corporation (1923). This data visualization, Hejeebu says, did a lot of economic harm to the communities depicted.
WEB EXTRA Watch Do No Harm: Equity Awareness in Data Visualization, one of the videos Hejeebu assigns to her students. crnl.co/noharm
17 projects in 18 days!
Cornell students share a course in common, the Second-Year Seminar: Citizenship in Practice. At the end of Block 1, they put on an event in the Thomas Commons for the entire campus to showcase their problem-solving and communication skills, with 17 exhibits representing the full range of the liberal arts. A few of the projects on exhibit:
Memes, Art, and Internet Culture Housing is a Human Right Earth Resources and Sustainability Philosophy of Home Modern Migration: Constructing Citizenship
The SAW is the hot new place
Fitness classes at the SAW are hopping. Kinesiology Professor Lewis Kanyiba is teaching two new classes: Martial Arts for Fitness and Aerobics for Fitness on Mondays and Wednesdays. Yoga is on Tuesday afternoons and the room is so completely packed they might need to find a bigger space.
Stoner House has new modern furniture in the living room, plus a big TV and a coffee bar with coffees from around the world, increasing the chances of finding the perfect brew. The Office of Intercultural Life knows how to bring people together with free quality coffee. Their backyard BBQs aren’t bad either.
While fall 2022 marked the 131st football game against Coe, it also brought the first matchup between the rivals’ esports teams. Cornell won the overall series 3-1. A few weeks later the Rams Esports team branched out again to host the first Cornament, taking on Cornell University in five different games. The Rams lost 3-2, after which the teams sparred on Twitter and Cornell (College) vowed a rematch.
Cornell’s Esports team hosted the first Cornament with Cornell University.
Mehrdad Zarifkar ’09 captured this moody shot in December 2022. “I noticed some low fog over Cornell early one morning. I scrambled with the drone and positioned it to frame iconic King Chapel with McLennan College Hall in the background,” he said. “The fog was patchy so it took a bit of waiting for a cloud bank to roll in. I slowed down the shutter speed a bit and overexposed slightly to give the fog a bit more haze and motion. The early morning sunlight casting shadows helps make the shot.”
Whoever heard of poker games like Dean’s Delight or Genetic Revolution? No one, unless you’re a Cornell College professor who plays in the faculty poker group.
It sounds intimidating: a group of Cornell faculty seated around a table, poker chips set, cards dealt, engaged in one of the many games they have invented. For faculty, though, it’s been a relaxing outlet for over 50 years.
Politics professor and former Mount Vernon mayor Nick Berry started the group in 1971. In the early days they played every Wednesday night in players’ homes. Professor Emeritus of Chemistry Truman Jordan resuscitated the group after it had gone dormant for a few years, and now it has moved permanently to his home.
“For my first 10 years at Cornell it was my social life,” says Professor Emeritus of Politics Craig Allin, who joined in 1972. “I don’t know how I did it. I was working 70 hours a week, trying to create new courses, and that poker game would historically start up at 8 o’clock and I’d come home at 1 o’clock in the morning. I remember Robert Mendelson, Lindsley Schutz, and I occasionally staying up the rest of the night playing until it was time for Schutz to take his kids to school in the morning. We were much younger.”
Jordan says there was a time in the 1980s when the chair of every major faculty committee was in the group, and faculty business was a common topic of discussion. Now the talk is centered on the broader world, politics, the markets, and things retired people are interested in, Allin says.
Current Cornell regulars are Jordan, Allin, David Loebsack (politics), Ann Cannon (mathematics and statistics), Craig Tepper (biology), and Craig Engel ’87 Throughout the years “townies”—such as Joe McClain, former food service director and bar proprietor—have been part of the group. Past members include Barron
Bremner (administrator), Paul Gray (philosophy), Jim White (philosophy), Charles Connell (German), David Weddle (religion), Robert Mendelsohn (sociology), Winston Ehrmann (academic dean), Dick Watkins (chemistry), Robin Reid (student affairs), Lindsley Schutz (psychology), and, famously, the late Geneva Meers (English), the only woman member for decades.
Jordan said Meers joined after a phone call he received when he owed her a political favor. “Don’t you think it’s time to integrate the faculty poker group?” she asked. Meers died in 2004 and Ann Cannon is the only other woman who has been a regular part of the group.
Allin says they play for fun and chitchat, not money. Bets are limited to a quarter, and the number of raises is limited to three, keeping the pot low.
The stakes seem to be more in the games themselves.
The group’s most prolific game inventor, Allin says, was Charles Connell. He frequently invented games, often politically themed, with names such as Victims of the Revolution.
“We tend to prefer games that are unreasonably complicated and have lots of opportunities to
We tend to prefer games that are unreasonably complicated and have lots of opportunities to bet.
—CRAIG ALLIN
Faculty poker is utterly unique
bet. And many of these games are games of our own devising,” Allin says. “There is a genetic editing game with 15 cards displayed on the table as well as cards in your hand, and depending on certain things happening, certain cards go away and get replaced with other cards. It would make a traditional poker player throw up his hands in dismay and go out of the room running.”
Jordan says that game, Genetic Revolution, was inspired by the genetic engineering capacity of a CRISPR gene.
Numerous games have Cornell-specific names, such as Dean’s Delight and Ehrmann’s Stud, both named for Ehrmann, who was dean of the college from 1969–1975 and provost from 1975–1977.
“Possibly the game we play more often than anything else is a game I invented, which we call Middlemost Ehrmann. Only Truman and I ever met the man or have possibly even thought of why we call it that,” Allin says.
57
AGE OF THE OC (OPENED IN 1966)
190 CAPACITY
2022
930 SQUARE FOOTAGE
∞
COOLNESS FACTOR OF THE CARPET’S COLOR NAME: SOLAR FLARE
240
NUMBER OF SQUARE PANELS USED TO COVER THE AREA
1
NUMBER OF COLLEGES WITH AN OC VENUE
137
NUMBER OF RESERVATIONS FROM AUG. 5 TO DEC. 22, 2022 (THAT’S 750 HOURS TOTAL!)
2
NUMBER OF TIMES PEOPLE WANTED TO CHANGE THE OC TO PURPLE*
2
NUMBER OF TIMES THAT REQUEST WAS REJECTED
*We are aware of requests for purple for the Class of ’99 gift, and in planning for the 2014 renovations. Did we miss any? Email: cornellreport@cornellcollege.edu
Learn the rules to Craig Allin’s popular faculty poker game Middlemost Ehrmann at crnl.co/poker
In 2019 a running back from San Francisco, California, caught the attention of Cornell football coaches. Although they saw his film highlights, they didn’t get to recruit Daniel Abesames-Hammer ’24 in person. The pandemic prevented him and many of his classmates from coming to campus until move-in day.
When he did arrive, Head Football Coach Dan Pifer had a moment of doubt. At 5-foot-1 and 125 pounds, Abesames-Hammer is by far the smallest player Pifer has ever coached.
“I knew he was small, and I’ve had some small running backs. When he got here I thought, ‘Man, he is small. Wow, he might get killed,’” Pifer said. “But he’s a tough kid. He told me, ‘Coach, I just want a chance.’ I said, ‘You can do that here.’”
Abesames-Hammer said he got a lot of looks at their first team meeting.
“But what the heck, I know who I am,” he said. “I’m not going to tell someone I’m taller. I just try to be the best I can.” He impressed a lot of people in practice that first week, Pifer said.
“He’s kind of hard to hit because he just keeps moving, he’s shifty. He doesn’t want to be treated differently, and that’s why the other players like him. It shows you that he’s going to be successful in whatever he does, with that attitude of hard work and getting things done.”
Abesames-Hammer gets about 15 to 20 snaps a game on offense. Twice last season
he led the team in rushing. Pifer said he’s good at pass protection and, due to his size, has techniques no one else can even think of doing.
USA Today wrote a story on him headlined “Daniel Abesames-Hammer of Division III Cornell College among smallest college football players ever.” Pifer said he believes he’s the smallest college football player who’s actually played in a game.
Abesames-Hammer contributes to the team in numerous ways, and not just on the field.
“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him in a bad mood. That rubs off on the other players. He just likes life,” Pifer said. “He’s overcome a lot of obstacles to play the game. If he does something good on the football field, it just echoes down the sidelines.”
If you ask Abesames-Hammer how he contributes out of uniform, he will tell you he’s the team’s designated DJ.
“I play music in the locker room. And anytime on weekends, I’m usually playing music. Basic hip hop. I like singing in the shower,” he said.
He still has not missed a game due to injury, although he did have a major injury in high school.
He’s majoring in kinesiology with a goal of becoming a physical therapist and athletic trainer and football coach. He said he appreciates Cornell’s One Course At A Time curriculum because it helps create a routine: Class, eat, class, football.
He works hard to be the quickest on the field and hardest to tackle. Last summer he lifted weights and drank two protein drinks every day to bulk up. But once he returned to Iowa’s heat and humidity, he sweated that weight off in practice and ended up right back at 125 pounds. To improve his speed for his senior season, he went out for track as a
sprinter and plans to prepare even harder this summer.
Abesames-Hammer’s stepfather introduced him to football, watching games together and teaching him how to play. A high school physical education teacher told him he had talent and encouraged him to pursue the sport, even though Abesames-Hammer’s mother, a doctor’s assistant at University of California-Davis, had concerns. By the time he enrolled at Cornell, her bigger concern was sending her son so far away from home.
Not surprisingly, Abesames-Hammer is a fan favorite.
“There’s definitely a charisma about him,” Pifer said. “Everybody wants to meet him. He’s an inspiration: If you want to play badly enough, there’s a way regardless of size.”
DAN PIFER HEAD FOOTBALL“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him in a bad mood. That rubs off on the other players. He’s overcome a lot of obstacles to play the game. If he does something good on the football field, it just echoes down the sidelines.”
Cornell student hangouts are the places where lifelong friendships are forged. Some gathering places have spanned decades, while others came and went in a blaze of glory.
Five alumni and a member of the Class of 2024 tell the stories of their special space on the following pages. Sit back and time travel to that place you knew, or wish you had.
As the sun rises to meet the top of the hill in Mount Vernon, you can expect to find students already making their way to the cornerstone of Cornell College: the Thomas Commons. Just before classes begin for the day, students find themselves in the Commons for a quick breakfast at the Hilltop Café or at Zamora’s, or already hard at work as they pull out their books and papers to begin another day of scholarship. Like many others, I can’t imagine starting the day until I’ve grabbed a coffee from Zamora’s.
The low murmur of the morning turns into the afternoon. As classes release and the lunch hour begins, students start swarming the Commons in droves. When a line begins to form for lunch, many hungry students and locals alike wait for the doors of the Hilltop Café to open, and then everyone flocks to the main part of the lobby. Here, there are numerous couches, armchairs, and even a few booths that quickly become occupied with those patiently waiting for the line to dwindle down. I, and countless others, gather with friends already having plenty to talk about, and the Commons fills with chatter. The roar of the Commons is palpable, alive with a college community coming together.
After a couple of hours of lunch, many begin to file away. Some will go back to their classes. Others might go to their dorm rooms. But a few may stick around, enjoying the way the Commons seems to settle down after its liveliest point of the day.
While the Commons bursts to life every few hours throughout the day, it never quite empties completely. As the sun begins to shed its mural of colors into the expansive windows of the Commons, many students, including me, can be found once more in the lobby.
Backpacks are strewn across the carpeted floor. The
quiet taps of fingers over laptop keyboards fill the occasional silence. A group may find themselves in quiet tandem as they review their notes. A few might be awaiting the arrival of others to go out of town on a weekend night. Others—especially during pledging season—await excitedly in groups to meet members of the fraternities and sororities they want to join.
I frequently find myself enjoying the productive atmosphere. It is never quite silent with so many people there, but it always feels right to sit with others.
There’s a spot every student might find to their liking; it could be at one end of the lobby next to the fireplace, tucked comfortably away from the rest of the world; it could be closer to the stairs to watch others they know pass by; it could even be at the Information Desk where so many often go when they see someone they know working behind the desk. Even just saying “hi” to a friend behind the desk makes me feel happy to have stepped into the building. The consistent thrum of activity keeps everyone awake as the night carries on. You may even wonder how such a lively building can create such a calming space. It could be the comfortable chairs, or it could be the friends you see everyday in such a familiar place. Sometimes, it might not sound calming at all.
Whether we’re waiting for others, studying in the steady atmosphere of activity, or simply find ourselves in one of the plush chairs, the Commons remains alive; a shared space everyone finds themselves in at some point during the day.
Ken Roden ’24 is majoring in English: Creative Writing and works in the Dungy Writing Studio, the Berry Career Institute, and in Cole Library. He’s from Oklahoma and wants to work in a library and write books.
While the Commons bursts to life every few hours throughout the day, it never quite settles completely.
I started my Cornell College journey filled with a mix of anxiety, excitement, and the hope of making new friendships. During our Peer Advisor (PA) group orientation, I huddled away from people, too nervous to introduce myself. Suddenly, a young woman with glasses and short hair plopped down beside me, as stress-ridden as I felt. Her name was Autumn Allen, and she was my first friend at Cornell.
That friendship would turn into ones with Desiree Clark and Shawna Anderson, and would lead to our unintentional takeover of Pauley Lounge.
First year of college in 2005 saw most freshmen living in Pauley-Rorem. Back then, the Pauley Lounge consisted of a couple of couches and plush chairs, a TV, foosball table, billiard table, and a piano. At first we only met there to walk over to the Commons together. But then we started binge watching movies and TV shows. Foosball became a rite of passage as we nearly broke our wrists fighting to win the game. If we really wanted to ruin friendships, we battled each other in Mario Kart. I’m sure we woke up half the dorm screaming, laughing, and cackling as we were obliterated by blue shells.
If I went looking for my friends, I found them in the lounge, likely watching “Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire” for the seventh time in a row.
But the lounge wasn’t just for fun and games; it was a place where we broke out of our shells and looked past differences to get to know one another. Desiree and I joke about how we butted heads our freshman year due to differences of opinion. One night, when it was just the two of us, we talked until dawn, sharing our beliefs and intimate details about our childhoods. We found we had far more in
common than we initially thought. By the time we dragged ourselves to bed, we knew we’d just become best friends.
Every night folks found us in the lounge where we sometimes hosted slumber parties on the weekend. We’d be in the middle of watching a movie and people would greet us with a hearty, “Hey, Lounge Folk!” and sometimes even join us for socializing.
Around the holidays we hosted a Christmas celebration with the Lounge Folk. We ordered pizza from Paul Revere’s or Pizza Palace, tucked presents under the tree, decorated the lounge, and shared snacks and brown bag lunches— may they rest in peace. Even after our freshman year, we returned to Pauley Lounge each winter to host a holiday party for the Lounge Folk. No matter how our group dynamics changed, the lounge was where our friendships started, and we carried that with us through college.
The thing I loved most about being one of the Lounge Folk was that whenever I felt alone, or I was struggling with anxiety and depression, I always knew where I could find at least one friend. We supported each other, provided an ear if someone was upset or happy, built relationships and sisterhoods, and also encouraged one another to take breaks from studying to have fun and relax. That’s something I miss most about living in a dorm; I don’t have a place to go where someone will always be there. But I have both the memories and the people still in my life and, really, that’s what matters most.
Erin Casey ’09 (erincasey.org) is the author of “The Purple Door District” urban fantasy series and a founder of The Writers’ Rooms, a literary organization based in Iowa City that’s focused on providing a free, safe environment for all writers. When she’s not writing, working, and volunteering, she’s busy raising her crazy flock of six birds.
The lounge wasn’t just for fun and games; it was a place where we broke out of our shells and looked past differences to get to know one another.
Lunchtime at Cornell. As the block plan ensured that most classes dismissed at 11 a.m., the Commons was swarmed by hungry students within 15 minutes. While waiting for the dining room doors to open, students gathered upon one of Cornell’s most outstanding physical features: the Orange Carpet. The OC was more than simply a 930-square-foot swatch of sunset-colored fibers; it was the space, bright and open, where students gathered from morning until midnight to study, talk, listen, dance, nap, and play.
As a prospective Cornell student, the most memorable part of my campus tour was when the peppy tour guide threw open the doors of the boisterous Commons and proudly proclaimed that I was about to see the most expansive piece of orange carpet this side of the Mississippi. How could I go wrong attending a college with the largest pipe organ and the largest stretch of orange carpet west of the mighty Mississippi? Students were lounging comfortably or engaged in conversations on the OC, worn thin and spotted after years of spilled sodas and foot traffic.
The Orange Carpet has been a Cornell landmark since the day the Commons opened in 1966. Then-president Arland Christ-Janer chose the color himself. As he once explained, “What we were looking for was an accent that would draw you in. That room, as you came in, needed something that said POW! and orange seemed to do it.” Students’ passions for the Popsicle-colored carpet overflowed when word came that some members of the Class of 1999 wanted, as their senior gift, to replace the orange carpet with a Cornell-purple carpet.
Our voices were heard. Orange it is still.
When the Orange Carpet was replaced, thicker and softer but just as vibrantly gaudy, it held footprints like shadows.
Footprints of students stopping to chat, to read in the openness, to procrastinate (friends are bound to see you from the upper bowl of the Commons and stop to say hello or share the latest piece of small-college gossip), to study, to practice for theatrical performances, to meet before a party or night at the bars.
Footprints of presidential candidates and worldwide
media organizations. The OC garnered the world’s attention when Bill Bradley stepped into the Commons the day before the Iowa caucuses. The crowd of students, faculty, and visitors craned to see a potential world leader who also happened to be a basketball star. A buzz of excitement rippled through the OC. International publicity. If I did not distinguish myself in any other way during my college career, I can say that the back of my head was on Japanese television.
Footprints of rap artists. We bobbed and throbbed with Sir Mix-a-Lot on the Orange Carpet. The orange was barely visible under the press of sweaty students crowding for a spot near the rap star.
Footprints of folk singers. When Dan Schwartz brought his poignant lyrics and stellar guitar riffs to the Orange Carpet, we sat cross-legged in small groups, soaking in the mellow music.
Footprints of jugglers with a passionate dedication to human rights. Every Monday, the Jugglers Against Homophobia united on the Orange Carpet to share the art of keeping three balls in the air with two hands, and to practice complicated juggling moves involving clubs, swords, and rubber chickens.
Footprints of poets. A creative writing group met weekly to, as one member wrote, “hang similes and metaphors out to dry over Orange Carpet.”
Footprints of activists. When Cornell hosted a conference on white privilege in 1999, worlds of opportunity and oppression were illuminated, challenging students and the college to realize and actively combat racism.
Footprints of fatigued students, chainsaw jugglers, salsa dancers, and comedians marked the Orange Carpet during my time at Cornell, and undoubtedly, generations of future Cornellians will gather to cram for tests, munch Ratt cheese balls, and make memories on that expanse of unmistakable orange.
Christy Hamilton Cole ’01 wrote this article, originally published in the Cornell Report in 2000, as a student. She is married to Joe Cole ’00 and lives in Mineral Point, Wisconsin, with their 7-yearold daughter. She is studying toward her master’s degree in clinical social work.
We bobbed and throbbed with Sir Mix-a-Lot on the Orange Carpet. The orange was barely visible under the press of sweaty students crowding for a spot near the rap star.
By the early 1970s the drinking age had just been lowered to 18. Any Cornellian could easily crunch this new equation: student hangout = local bar.
The bar scene consisted of The North Side and The South Side. The North Side was known as a “farmer bar.” Across Main Street, The South Side was such a lopsided victor in the battle for brand name recognition it was referred to simply as The Side. Packed wall-to-wall with Cornell’s most boisterous revelers, The Side was primarily inhabited by athletes and social groups, with an environment of human bumper cars, jet-engine-level noise, and a jukebox playing the hits of the day.
If you looked to your local bar to provide introspection, intimacy, lofty conversation, or live music, life was tough. Then, smack dab into the middle of Main Street U.S.A., seemingly dropped from some karmic tornado that had gathered every piece of exotic ’60s cultural debris in its long and winding path, plopped The General Tavern. The General provided a public face, an outlet of expression, a gathering place for new or previously suppressed, increasingly individualistic thinking and living that by the early ’70s had begun to bubble to the surface of Mount Vernon’s consciousness and flow out over town.
The interior was perfect. Old wood and brick, with the card room and loft being two of the coolest and most comfortable places you could ever drink a beer. The loft had a treehouse appeal, its ceiling so low you couldn’t stand up in it. Instead of a jukebox, a house music system featured two new formats: cassette tapes and stereo FM radio album rock. There was no TV, but in its place a sort of real-life sitcom, starring characters like bar manager Boyd Howard, who, over time, assembled a VW Bug piece by piece in his living room.
To Jane Caraway ’79, “It was a very informal, eccentric, artsy mix of students and townies that became a kind of family. A sometimes dysfunctional family, perhaps, but once it closed, nothing ever filled the void.”
In 1972 Jim Ellison purchased the Yeisley Bakery building just a few doors down from the two Sides. “We
bought the building. Then we were sitting around trying to figure out what to do with it, and somebody said ‘hey, let’s do a bar.’ Two days later parts just started falling into place,” says Ellison, the son of the late wrestling legend Gordon Ellison ’34. A bastion of whiskey bar bohemia was born. Pabst Blue Ribbon was served on tap and many patrons wryly recall the Pickett’s beer in bottles. Mmm, mmm, mmm—light enough to go down fast and easy, and then … uh oh.
In 1976 Jim Ellison sold The General to Walter Leopold, Nicole Small, and Tom and Zetta Wojack, who had plans to turn it into a deli. It may not seem strange now, but many Mount Vernonites had never encountered a bagel. Novel or not, the food was too good to resist. Matzo ball soup, corn and potato chowders, Reubens—it was all delicious and made fresh. Walter took pride in the fact that many of the clientele were elderly—the deans of Midwest cooking, so to speak. They weren’t alone. One day Walter reached in his mailbox and fished out an envelope from the Chicago Tribune. In it was a copy of a rave review by their food critic, who had passed through town. Next, an article in Newsweek—a portrayal of The General as a Midwestern culinary outpost trying to survive in the tough times of the Carter administration.
Walter, Tom, Zetta, and Nickie’s most controversial move—instituting a two-day-a-week no-smoking policy— was precariously ahead of its time. The resulting antagonism from many patrons was one of several factors that combined to diminish the owners’ appetite for the business. The exhausting 24/7 schedule, the desire to return to previous careers, reluctance to make a long-term financial commitment, and more all added up to The General closing its doors in 1979. The farewell party was the happiest sad event of all time.
But this story shouldn’t end on a sad note, and I haven’t mentioned the live music. The booking was wildly, flailingly eclectic—from flamenco/classical guitar to deep Delta-style blues to reggae—the quality of musicianship often superior. The most powerful memory I have of The
Smack dab into the middle of Main Street U.S.A., seemingly dropped from some karmic tornado that had gathered every piece of exotic ’60s cultural debris in its long and winding path, plopped The General Tavern.
General is from my very first night there, when I was stunned to discover Cedar Rapids guitarist Dennis McMurrin. He and his band delivered a borderline-insane combination of Black and white, city and country, rock ’n’ roll energy and living-room-level comfort, a style that later earned him work with George Clinton, Sly Stone and others. The subtlety and impact of McMurrin’s playing would have been lost in a bigger, less intimate place. You felt unforgettably good, swallowed up in a delirium-inducing evening of drink and dance. In a word, you felt welcome.
In the fall of 1962, Cornell didn’t offer freshman girls many hangouts. We were too young for bars, no one had cars, and we had 9:15 p.m. curfews. By default as much as by choice, our hangout was the dorm.
We started college during the days of in loco parentis, which considered the college as substitute parents. Girls had strictly enforced hours, dress codes, house mothers, nightly bed checks, and single-sex dorms. Shocking as this
may sound to today’s liberated college women, we accepted the rules unquestioningly. It was just the way things were, and for most of us, Cornell gave us more freedom than we had ever had.
The dorm was where we made our closest personal connections, ate our meals, studied, played, and entertained our boyfriends. Pfeiffer Hall was my first Cornell family. Struggling together through Dr. Pray’s biology exams and Dr. Kollman’s history papers bonded us as fellow survivors. College was hard work, and we found plenty of ways to relieve the stress; from the older girls we learned clever pranks, like stuffing rooms with newspapers and rolling waste bins down the stairs. Food was important; the smell of fresh popcorn still transports me to the dorm. One favorite ritual was gathering after dinner to sing. We’d belt out “If I Had a Hammer” and “The Drunken Sailor,” accompanied with the few chords we knew on our baritone ukuleles.
Like sisters, we shared belongings— typewriters, care packages, and clothes. We shared secrets and dreams in serious conversations about our futures, and we did our best to educate each other by sharing our scant knowledge of sex.
Pfeiffer offered several gathering places. At the top of the stairs were the ironing boards and the floor’s telephone. Somebody was always there, ironing her own white cotton blouses or her (gasp!) boyfriend’s button-down shirts. Somebody else was always sprawled on the floor tying up the phone, while someone else impatiently waited her turn.
The first floor spaces had their own daily rhythm. The lounge was empty in the morning, except for a worker running a vacuum. Toward noon, the noisy lunch line formed and girls hovered around the desk to pick up mail. Afternoons were quiet again with a few girls studying or dozing. The day crescendoed around dusk, when the lounge was opened to boys for a short time before and after dinner. The love seats filled with couples discreetly making out with four feet very properly on the floor. By 8 p.m. the boys were out, the lounge doors closed, and the bathrobe-and-curlers crowd took over the space. Close to 9:15 the kissing couples were back, lingering outside the front door in the cramped entryway or on the darkened stairway to the dining hall. Lights flicked a warning one minute before closing, the
boys would tear themselves away, and Pfeiffer Hall would become its female self again.
Later, a little colony of procrastinators would gather in the lounge, pulling all-nighters to cram for an exam or to finish (or start) a paper due the next day. By the wee hours, the smoky air was thick with tension and irritability. As day broke, the night owl lounge ghosts evaporated, and the vacuum’s hum chased away the night.
On special nights, everyone was buzzed to the lounge for a candle ceremony. We’d stand in a circle in the darkened room, singing sweetly as the candle was passed around the circle once, then twice, when the girl who had been pinned (like being engaged to be engaged) blew it out—or three times around for an engagement.
We entered the fall of 1965 as senior women in Rood House, and another community formed. More precisely, it re-formed. We had spent two years going separate ways, joining different social groups, finding a major, and studying abroad. Marguerite had visited Montgomery, Joan had lived in Germany, and Edie, Ruth, and I had lived in England and toured Europe. By senior year, we were different people. We had accepted leadership roles on campus, and we were serious about our studies. We were prepared for student teaching, and several of us were planning weddings. In Rood House, the sisterhood took on a bittersweet quality during that last precious year as we prepared to venture out of Cornell’s safety and security.
Today’s students might think my college experience was quaint and archaic. But in spite of their many freedoms, they’re missing something—the sense of place and belonging we had from living in Pfeiffer, Bowman, and Rood. We didn’t know about the feminist movement, but we did know about living in a community of strong, bright women who were there for each other through difficulties and who celebrated each other’s accomplishments. As an adult, I’ve known the power of women’s communities to support each other through life’s joys and disappointments. Cornell gave us four years of good practice.
Later, a little colony of procrastinators would gather in the lounge, pulling allnighters to cram for an exam or to finish (or start) a paper due the next day.
Dating on the Hilltop in the ’50s centered on the ramshackle, shedlike building known as the Cole Bin, with its aptly named Furnace Room (aka The Passion Pit). It masqueraded as Cornell’s “student union.”
At decade’s start the “in” spot was George Brown’s Quonset hut establishment, on an alley across the street from Brackett House. But when it closed in 1952, the only hangout for a game of bridge, dancing, and smoking was the white frame Cole Bin (successor to the original off-campus Cole Bin), located in the valley between Armstrong and Pfeiffer halls.
It was purchased as a World War II nurses’ barracks, and its name was a play on the name of then-President Russell D. Cole, Cornell Class of 1922, and the term coal bin (yes, in the ’50s there still were houses with furnaces fueled by coal stored in bins).
The room at the far end of the Cole Bin, housing one of the very few TV sets on campus, was named the Furnace Room. Darkened by drapes, equipped with sofas, and closed off from the rest of the building, you can imagine why it was rumored that when the TV was broken for more than a week, no one complained.
Students who staffed the short-order snack bar were charged with retrieving dishes and glasses as well as doing some cursory cleaning of the Furnace Room. To avoid curses from the couples occupying the room, various strategies were employed. One was to try to keep your eyes on the ceiling while cleaning up (no easy feat), but during my time as a counter person, I used the noisy approach—knocking chairs against the tables in the main room, loudly singing or whistling, and then pretending that I was having trouble turning the doorknob. That usually sufficed.
With only a handful of student cars on campus, it was not easy to find the privacy needed for serious dating encounters. Abbe Creek was wonderfully remote but had a short—nonetheless glorious—season. The also aptly-named Practice Houses (two former residences whose rooms were
equipped with pianos)—checked on occasionally by a night watchman who was afraid of the dark—also gave shelter to young couples.
By today’s standards, perhaps the most shocking aspect of the Cole Bin was its unrestricted welcome of student smokers. One senior, a veteran of counter work, said he had considered bringing a canary to work to warn him when the carbon monoxide levels got too high. In the ’50s, with two out of three doctors supposedly endorsing a popular brand of cigarette, student hands also were busy holding cards (bridge was the “in” game), cups of coffee, and Chesterfields for hours at a time.
Business at the Cole Bin had its own rhythm, picking up when the daily (yes, daily) Chapel sessions were held, after a sports event, and on Friday evenings when the smell of fish cooking drove Cornellians away from the Pfeiffer and Bowman dining rooms. Students were allowed 15 Chapel cuts a semester, after which you had to pay the then significant sum of $1 a cut. Some daily Cole Bin regulars at Chapel time had connections with certain Chapel roll takers.
Other features of the Cole Bin, in addition to the food service area with booths against the walls, included a large, hall-like room complete with tables, chairs, jukebox, and Ping-Pong set. Dances were held there.
The offices of the Royal Purple yearbook were in the Cole Bin. And overall operation of the place usually was supervised by a local woman who kept the larder stocked and up-to-date.
Ah, but it was the way a relationship would progress— from playing bridge in the snack bar area, to dancing in the main hall, to an afternoon or evening in the Furnace Room— that comes to the minds of many alumni when the late, unlamented Cole Bin is mentioned.
The late Duane Carlson ’55 dated his wife-to-be, Ann Holcomb Carlson ’55, at the Cole Bin. He was vice president of communications for Blue Cross and Blue Shield for over 20 years. This story originally ran in 2000.
Darkened by drapes, equipped with sofas, and closed off from the rest of the building, you can imagine why it was rumored that when the TV was broken for more than a week, no one complained.
When California’s governor appointed Cerena Wong ’72 to the bench in 1985, she felt pressure to perform, though not because she was the state’s first woman of color to serve as a judge.
“I did not feel pressure because I was a woman or minority. I felt pressure because the job was hard and challenging,” she said.
Wong had worked as a deputy district attorney for nearly a decade— becoming the first woman to prosecute a death penalty case in Sonoma County—when she was encouraged to apply for a judgeship and was appointed. And that is when Wong faced one of the biggest challenges of her life.
Her term was short, after which she was up for election. A local lawyer looked at the slate of judges up for election and told the media Wong was the most vulnerable for defeat.
“I had to hit the ground running, literally running. I had to be introduced to politicians and get their endorsement. I had to raise money. I had to brag about myself. I walked neighborhoods. It was a humbling, challenging thing to do,” she said. “I thought being female and Asian would be seen as a bad thing. Instead, it was my age—35! They thought I was too young to do the tough things a judge has to do.”
She won with 82% of the vote and never had to campaign again. Wong served as a municipal court judge for 10 years and as a superior court judge for 20 years. Since retiring in 2011 she continues to help the court by filling in when needed.
Wong lives in Santa Rosa, California,
with Gordon Burns, her high school sweetheart and husband of 50 years. She’s involved in her neighborhood and church, and helps care for two of their four grandchildren.
She arrived on the Hilltop from Los Angeles during the tumultuous fall of 1968. She said she was shaped by late-night debates in Bowman Hall over the war, racial justice, and the Old Sem Takeover. Until then she had not experienced racism, having grown up in Chinatown.
“But in little Mount Vernon, Iowa, this lady at the grocery store said, ‘Your English is so good!’ and it startled me,” she recalled. “For the first time in my young life, I really felt I was a minority person, different.”
Someone else noticed her speaking ability—in a much different way.
Her orientation group met at Professor of Philosophy Bill Debbins’ house, where he told Wong that she was a good speaker and should think about being a lawyer. “I thought, really? Not me! But that was like a little seed in the brain.”
After her second year on campus she decided to stay home with her family. She finished college at UCLA. Still, Cornell continued to shape her.
Wong was pursuing a master’s degree in English when she noticed a poster that read, “Are you thinking about law school? Take the LSAT.”
Remembering Professor Debbins, she decided to take the test, which changed her life.
Looking back, she said, “Cornell formed me and changed my life in so many ways. I am so grateful.”
— DEE ANN REXROAT ’82
Professor of Philosophy Bill Debbins told Wong that she was a good speaker and should think about being a lawyer. “I thought, really? Not me! But that was like a little seed in the brain.”
When first hired at Cornell as staff, many of us imagined assisting and advising students, training students, creating marketing materials to recruit students, or fundraising for campaigns to enhance the student experience on the Hilltop.
What we could not have imagined was that small print on many of our job descriptions that states: other duties as assigned.
“When Pfeiffer Hall was evacuated at 1 a.m. by the fire alarm system, we knew from the evidence that someone was seen running out of a kitchen with something smoking. The smoke also was burning people’s eyes for some unknown reason. I searched every trash can on the building’s perimeter and found a smoldering cup of spicy noodles. This helped us identify the student for an educational conversation.”
“My first year working at Cornell [19851986], the Office of College Communications was planning a 100th birthday celebration for Bowman-Carter Hall (just Bowman Hall back then). The event included a tea in the formal lounge of Bowman, and we wanted to have the student wait staff decked out in appropriate period dress. So I headed to Theatre Cedar Rapids to search its costume shop for long black skirts to borrow. The women were to wear white blouses with wide sashes adorning the waist of the skirt. For these, I made a trip to Joann’s Fabrics and purchased two shades of satin material to make them. I brought my sewing machine to my office in Old Sem (since I was an hourly employee and we didn’t work remotely in those days), and sewed away. My iron, sans ironing board, was also in tow.”
Lora Baltes Administrative Assistant for Alumni and College Advancement“At a range of events over the years, I’ve been asked to dress in various costumes and make appearances. My favorites include Santa Claus, Captain America, and Bob Barker. Once, dressed as Santa, I worked my way through the dining rooms spreading good cheer with students—who were in great moods just before winter break. Not being recognizable, I was able to make comments in Santa’s voice using personal references with students I knew—like which fraternity or sorority they were in, the name of their roommate, which athletic team they were on, or which class they were taking that block—like ‘don’t be late for Professor Tepper’s class Jimmy; you’ll be on the naughty list!’—which just blew their minds and sent them and their friends laughing.”
“Early in the pandemic, when Animal Crossing New Horizons had just been released and was super popular, one of our students made a custom Cornell “C” hoodie in-game and I staged an in-game photoshoot on my island for our Instagram, complete with purple and white flowers and an Educimus town hall flag.”
Hannah Dunn Creative DirectorWEB
“It didn’t seem odd that I would be involved in replacing the campus mascot costume. It was surprising, however, when I had to connect with the manufacturer to try to find out what material Ulysses’ face was made of, because he’d gotten scratches on his nose while out and about on campus. It’s spray paint, by the way, and the company is in Canada, so they gave me a specific paint color that you can’t get in the U.S. After a few trials, I found the right color of spray paint, created a plastic and painter’s tape shield to ensure I didn’t get paint on the wrong parts of Ulysses, and completed minor cosmetic surgery to get him back to perfect health.”
Jen Visser Senior Director of Marketing and Interactive Media“A student had a clasp break on her necklace and she was on her way to work at a clothing store. The necklace was the only jewelry she owned. I called Facilities to bring a soldering gun and together we were able to repair the jewelry so she could go to work.”
“I have been practicing my logistics skills in regards to getting our Hilltop Legos out the door to deposited first-year students [King Chapel Lego set and a McLennan College Hall Lego set]. Getting them into bins, sorting them, counting them, packaging them up … certainly nothing that falls under my true job description.”
“One time there was a raccoon that had gotten into the basement of Luce [Admission Center] overnight. It had a heyday down there. We weren’t sure whether he was still there—he had left some “evidence”—so I volunteered to go into the basement to scope it out—and then quickly ran back out and slammed the basement door! Yikes!”
“I helped with room checks (to be sure things were unplugged and windows were closed in the residence halls before break) at the end of the fall semester in 2020. The most interesting thing I found while doing that was a package of pork chops sitting on the floor in a hallway in Pauley Rorem. As the daughter of a pig farmer, I was glad to see our students supporting the pork industry, but a little sad they didn’t get to enjoy them before leaving for winter break!”
“It was Christmas of 2018, and the Office of Marketing and Communications wanted to help bring the fun to campus for the holiday season. We brainstormed ideas and decided to decorate our mascot, Ulysses the Ram. He was draped from head to toe in sparkling lights, garland, ornaments of every shape and size, and, yes, we even put a large silver bow on top. I created a cute video of the process that we shared as part of the fun. Afterward, we took a picture, printed out an enlarged version, and passed it around campus. We giggled in delight each time a new office received Yulysses and took a photo with him to post on social media!”
“I drove across campus in a golf cart filled with beer left over from our dining services. I was so worried the bottles would break on my way to the event!”
When he heard a minister tell the congregation that saying prayers over corn seed would produce a more abundant harvest, 12-year-old Rob Poggenklass began to question almost everything he had been taught growing up in Guttenberg, Iowa.
What didn’t change, however, was his ambition to serve others.
“I never questioned the idea of going into public service. It was imprinted on me by my parents,” Poggenklass said. They were both public school teachers involved in many good works.
Seeking answers and direction, Poggenklass enrolled at Cornell College where he majored in philosophy, wrote for The Cornellian, and graduated magna cum laude. He relished classes in ethics taught by Professor of Philosophy Paul Gray.
“I loved how One Course At A Time allowed me to focus all my attention on one subject,” Poggenklass said. “The diversity of the student body opened my mind to a whole range of new ideas. I was very naive. I could see that many of my classmates were far wiser than I was.”
After four years working on weekly newspapers in Mount Vernon and West Branch, Iowa, Poggenklass was still looking for direction. “My world felt small. I went to law school to work out what I should do next.”
He graduated from William and Mary Law School in Williamsburg, Virginia, in 2010 with the clear goal of helping people who are oppressed by the legal system: minorities, the impoverished, the undereducated, those falsely accused.
He worked for four years as a public defender in Virginia, representing defendants in criminal cases ranging from misdemeanors to murder. He spent two years with the ACLU chapter in Virginia, lobbying and writing. He worked for legal aid groups first in Iowa and later in Virginia, helping hundreds of low income clients deal with problems in housing, family matters, personal finance, and court debt.
Along the way, he taught law classes at Des Moines Area Community College, William and Mary, and the University of Virginia.
Poggenklass is president of Virginians for Alternatives to the Death Penalty, a group dedicated to abolishing the practice. The death penalty was outlawed in Virginia in 2021, but opponents are working to restore it. “Our goals are to preserve and protect the law,” said Poggenklass, who lives with his wife, Serena Matuk, and their two children in Earlysville, Virginia. “Progress in civil rights isn’t linear. There are two steps back for every three steps forward.”
In September 2022 Poggenklass turned his focus from the civil rights movement to the advocacy arena. He is now interim executive director of Justice Forward Virginia, a nonpartisan advocacy organization for criminal justice reform.
“I once thought the criminal legal system was broken,” Poggenklass said, “but I’ve learned that isn’t the case. It’s working exactly as designed as an instrument to oppress minorities and poor people. The system isn’t broken, but it sorely needs reform.”
—DAN KELLAMS ’58
Empowering the oppressed
“Our goals are to preserve and protect the law. Progress in civil rights isn’t linear. There are two steps back for every three steps forward.”
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20 years ago Dorothea Hinze Herman ’55, Benson, Arizona, was featured in a Cornell Report story on adoption. Over the years she had searched for her birth family, and was finally successful at age 87 when she received a call from a sister who is 12 years younger. “What I found was a lovely, tightly knit family who accepted me sight unseen and welcomed me with gatherings of 38 nieces, nephews, and cousins,” she said. “I was an only child and grew up with one cousin. Now I have the worst time trying to keep track of who’s who!” Dorothea closely resembles members of her birth family and shares similar gestures, likes, and dislikes. She talks weekly to her sister and reports that her son and daughter-in-law are happy for her and have met some of the birth family too.
Jim Hofmann ’56, Burlington, Iowa, was named to the Burlington (Iowa) High School Bracewell Football Stadium’s Wall of Honor. According to The (Burlington) Hawk Eye, Jim taught at Burlington for over 40 years and spent nearly 60 years coaching. The honor was given for a lifetime of commitment to Burlington High School and youth in Burlington. Jim also played football for the Rams.
Louise Mercer Hardin ’58, Bellingham, Washington, reports that she and Jim are “hanging in there.” They adopted a kitty from the Humane Society since losing their 18-year-old cat in June. The cat, Frieda Lee, watches bird videos on Louise’s iPad.
Joel Parrott ’61 and Karilyn Kirlin Parrott ’62 have been residents of La Crosse, Wisconsin, since August 2021. They are enjoying their new apartment on the fourth floor of a senior independent-living facility with a view of the Mississippi River. They regularly enjoy concerts of both the La Crosse Chamber Chorale and the Symphony Orchestra. They joined a United Methodist Church and have been busy with faith-related Zoom study groups both in Wisconsin and with long-time UMC friends in Illinois. Their daughter and son-in-law live 30 miles away, while their son and daughterin-law live in California. They traveled to Portland, Oregon, for the college graduation of their granddaughter last May. They report that downsizing and moving to sensible housing has worked out well for them.
Ernie Norris ’63, Pittsboro, North Carolina, and Ann are grateful to finally make good progress on their goal of partaking in the cultural and recreational offerings in their “Retirement No. 2” area. “We are trying desperately to find more interesting things to talk about than aches and pains and a plethora of medical appointments. We have a faint glimmer of hope for another overseas trip, but stateside travel will likely win out,” Ernie writes.
David Knutson ’64 and Ethel Kolar Knutson ’65 have lived and worked in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, since David finished his Ph.D. in psychology at the University of Kansas in 1969. After spending 10 years as a college professor, two years as a director of development, and 35 years as a financial advisor, he retired in 2016. In 2018 David came out of retirement at the request of a former associate to create a presentation on retirement planning to
his prospective clients. The presentation he prepared and gave over the last four years resulted in a book, “The Power of Planning.”
Jan Wright ’64, Ypsilanti, Michigan, is easing out of pandemic mode. She and Don took three short trips last year, one of which was to celebrate their 25th anniversary. Jan worked on helping to pass a 20year climate action tax rate in Ann Arbor, which will help fund a leave-no-one-behind plan for carbon neutrality.
Under the auspices of the Harborview Injury Prevention Center, Carol Lace Jenkins ’67, Seattle, Washington, is helping implement a statewide program of 60 temporary safe storage sites for individuals concerned about potential harm to themselves or others. Sites include gun stores, law enforcement, and shooting ranges.
Dick Myers ’68, Fernandina Beach, Florida, returned to his hometown of Afton, in southwest Iowa, where he was inducted into the East Union High School Wall of Fame. He retired in 2013 after 25 years working in pro football and intercollegiate athletics, followed by another 17 years in healthcare. Dick and Dolores celebrated their 52nd anniversary in September. They moved to Amelia Island, Florida, full-time three years ago and stay active with golf, card groups, and community theatre. They do some traveling and enjoy their three daughters and families, who live in Virginia and Maryland. He and Dolores volunteered to be election workers last fall.
Steve LaFollette ’69, Edmond, Oklahoma, and his wife Julie (Beloit Class of ’69) went on a wildlife tour to Churchill, Manitoba, last summer looking for beluga whales and polar bears.
Dorothea Hinze Herman ’55 was adopted at birth. Over the years she has searched for her birth family, and was finally successful at age 87.
FIRST ROW: Barbara Evans
Hansen, Mary Schmidt Hicken, Joan Spletter Mattson, Barbara Birmingham
MacDonald, Pamela Shafer
Randolph, Marlene Radosevich
Spalten, William Spalten, G. David Lather
ROW 2: Barbara Brindley
Yankey, Warren Western, Douglas Cameron, Kenneth
Glass, Anne Nussdorfer
Staton, Mary Thompson
Ingvoldstad, Corrie Root
Grummon, Barbara Martin
MacGregor, Susan Morrow
Petrosky, Sheryl Atkinson
Stoll
ROW 3: Patrick O’Hara, William Corwin “Corky” Stuart, Robert Johnson, Mark Abbott, Jeffrey Frost, James Beranek, Clair
Cramer, Marilynn Conners
Frederiksen
ROW 4: Robert Hansen, Steven Staton, Nicholas
Shargo, Robert Sullivan, James Coddington, David Schnare
FIRST ROW: Linda
Kellenberger Coddington, Jill
Husbands Schubert, David
Wilks, Alan Bjork, Thomas
Melloy, Linda Grindell Ray
ROW 2: Patrick Mahin, Larry
Merriman, Jameseva Marshall
Webb, Jackie Lockridge
Wallace, Steven Hardy, Mary
Lou Doerrie, Sheryl Ash, Barry
Russell, Patricia Ehlers Neal, Deanne Bishop
ROW 3: Thomas Ray, Karen Woolpert McGuire, Dorothy Burk Collins, Beverly Floro, Virginia Shannon Cameron, Linda Van Niewal, Beth
Soper, Barbara Schultz, Paula
Evenson Johnston, Susan Balster Zazas, Marilyn Norton ’70
ROW 4: Jim Haley, Dennis Cress, Andy Goldberg, Chuck
Hyser, Gary Livacari, Kent
Dallmeyer, Richard Barrett, Susan Seim Dirks, Kenneth Dirks
ROW 5: Gerald Neal, David
Howard, Paul MacGregor, Edward “Lane” Ashmore, Andy
Applebee, Bruce Clement, Gary Johnston
FIRST ROW: Barb Williams
Palomo, Diane Worick, Beth
Extrom Bingham, Kaarin
Johnston, Barbara May Balster
ROW 2: Elizabeth Rhoads
Read, Teresa Shaw, Bernadine
Feller McGuire, Lynn Pier-
Fitzgerald, Mary Jane Gillespie
Haley, Judy Gintzler Kocher, Kathy Norris Prestidge, Susan Bixby Sandholm
ROW 3: Scott Arends, Scott Woodin, Karen Kandik, Martha Moody Glassmeyer, Susan Yotcoski DeAppolonio, Sara Light Pearson, Sue Mulford Schroeder, Sue Royal Bullis
ROW 4: John Casebolt, Kim Luther, Jim Schlapkohl, Diana Morrow Howard, Cathy Chambers Brady, Martha Tabor, Peter Holmes
ROW 5: Don Wherry, Sally
Larson Sargent, Pam Rechel, Shelley Nelson Propst, Calvin
Van Niewaal, Hubert Merrell, Steven Barber, Timothy Pearson, Paul Tabor
Jim Coddington ’70 and Linda Kellenberger Coddington ’71, Mason City, Iowa, report really enjoying their 50th reunions: “Having three classes together was a wonderful idea and allowed us to see many of our friends not in our class. Good work, Cornell.” Jim retired after 38 years in family medicine, and Linda after 25 years as a preschool owner and teacher. They spend summers in Okoboji, Iowa, and winters in Mason City and Keystone, Colorado.
Cheri Johnson Mahin ’74 is still thinking about the question Young Alumni Award recipient Justin Futrell ’16 asked at the Homecoming Convocation: “Who is the mentor who made a difference in your life?”
They enjoy volunteer work and woodworking (Jim) and Mason City’s sculpture walk (Linda).
Robert Reimann ’73, Littleton, Colorado, writes that one of the best benefits of his days at Cornell was meeting Paul Reinhardt ’74, who introduced him to mountain climbing. Robert has climbed about 185 of the highest peaks in Colorado, as well as Rainier in Washington state, Grand Teton in Wyoming, and Kilimanjaro in Tanzania. After his wife of 25 years died suddenly of cancer in 2003, he went to Nepal and trekked for a month. To improve his skills he joined the Colorado Mountain Club, becoming a trip leader and instructor, chairing the Denver group, and becoming Volunteer of the Year. He reports he is past his hiking prime but had done over 80 hikes last year despite three right knee surgeries. Robert practices law part time, with his main interest in representing injured people. He has three daughters; two are married with four grandkids in
the Denver area. His youngest daughter was a Denver Broncos cheerleader who took Robert as a guest to the Super Bowl.
Dave Turnball ’73, Indianola, Iowa, stepped down in April after 37 years as the state director for the Fellowship of Christian Athletes in Iowa, and took on a part-time role serving in his local community. He writes that he is enjoying more golf, traveling to see family in Colorado, and investing in the spiritual lives of coaches and athletes where he lives.
Cheri Johnson Mahin ’74, Minnetonka, Minnesota, reports that Homecoming 2022 was much better than she expected, from the beautiful campus and town, to talking to people from her time, to the Alumni Convocation. She is still thinking about the question the Young Alumni Award recipient (Justin Futrell ’16) asked: “Who is the mentor who made a difference in your life?”
Dave Brezina ’75, Chicago, Illinois, serves as a member of the Illinois State Bar Association’s Intellectual Property Law Section Council.
Sharon Goodwin Fogleman ’75, Coralville, Iowa, writes that she and her husband, Lynn, bought their first home just as COVID started and enjoy having a home base while they continue to travel internationally—primarily for health worker mentoring and training on “Healing the Wounds of the Heart, How the Church Can Help.” They have six grandchildren.
Jane Easter Bahls ’76, Missoula, Montana, and her husband, Steve, were honored when the trustees of Augustana College renamed a campus administration building in their honor to mark Steve’s retirement in June. The Steve and Jane Bahls Campus Leadership Center honors 19 years of Augustana College presidency. They are now happily retired.
John Guthmann ’76, St. Paul, Minnesota, was elected to his third term as a Ramsey County (Minnesota) District Court Judge.
David Korslund ’76, Amsterdam, Netherlands, reports that his husband, Rob Kooiman, passed away unexpectedly on Sept. 13, 2022. “He had been very supportive of our contribution to set up the Korslund/Kooiman Endowed Experiential Learning Fund to provide financial support for Cornell students to study off campus,” he wrote. “I will miss him very much.”
Anne Davis Grothe ’77 settled in St. Louis, Missouri, with her husband after living in other parts of the U.S. over the years. She retired in early 2020 and spends her time helping care for her elderly parents, volunteering at a food pantry, participating in church activities, and visiting her kids and grandchildren who live out of state. She attended Homecoming, reporting that
the campus looked great and it was wonderful to reconnect with old friends and get to know other classmates.
Harlan Newell ’78, Minneapolis, Minnesota, writes that the Great Get Down Daze gathering at Karl Kost ’77’s farm in September 2022 was their fifth gathering of the new millennium at the farm. He writes that it was great to reconnect with everyone and act 21 again, but with more naps.
Darrell Wheeler ’81 became the ninth president of the State University of New York at New Paltz in 2022. His work in research, teaching, and community engagement has demonstrated a deep understanding of the use of data and evidence in developing innovative programs and policy initiatives, especially related to health with marginalized and oppressed groups.
Mark Dohnalek ’82, Overland Park, Kansas, continues to run Pivot International with 17 offices around the world.
“Seeing, literally first hand, the outbreak while in China in January of 2020, has made these last three years quite unique and very strange,” he wrote. Their son and daughter were both married over the past two years so he and his wife are now empty nesters.
Bill Keyser ’82 relocated to Belvidere, Illinois, after more than two decades in the Southeast (not shoveling snow). He traveled to meet up with several Cornell-AXE alumni last summer and also visited the Hilltop for his 40th class reunion, attending the SAW Dedication, C Club Breakfast, ’80s Dinner, and Bob Campagna’s photo exhibit in downtown Mount Vernon.
Kim Miller Jacobs ’83 and
Larry Jacobs ’80 have moved from Coeur d’Alene, Idaho, to Waukee, Iowa. “We haven’t lived in Iowa since the 1980s, but are enjoying getting to know the area and being close to family. Waukee is centrally located between our daughters, and we have easy access to some wonderful paved bike trails, especially the Raccoon River Trail that borders our subdivision,” Kim writes.
Tim Wynes ’83, Moline, Illinois, earned his master’s degree in higher education from Penn State University in December of 2022. “I enrolled in an initial class during the COVID-19 pandemic to model the importance of maintaining skills and continuing professional development,” he writes. “It turned out to be a lifeline during the pandemic, as I found a network of higher ed professionals from across the globe to learn from and consult.”
After 25 years, Sean Minear ’84, Weld, Maine, retired as executive chef at Camp Kawanhee for Boys. He plans to continue teaching his high school culinary program for a few more years. He’s in his 30th year as Sexton of the Mountain View Cemetery in his hometown of Weld. He writes he was grateful to see so many friends and family at the most recent Cornell Homecoming.
Michael Taylor ’84 teaches chemistry at a Catholic high school in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, where he is also the tennis coach, guitar teacher, and drama co-director. In summer he works as a cook at a camp in Wisconsin.
LeaAnn Cords ’88, Lisbon, Iowa, is a certified electronic reporter, better known as a remote digital court reporter.
Sue Waskow Shaw ’89, Webster Groves, Missouri, is the staff trainer for the St. Louis Arc. She teaches 500 staff how to effectively support people with intellectual and developmental disabilities. She has had seven young adults in her home in the past six years, most of whom had experienced extensive trauma. She speaks about trauma to social service agencies, area executives, and churches in the St. Louis area.
Adia Johnson ’97 to Rodney Melrose, Jan. 14, 2022
Lisa Johnson Utschig ’90, Naperville, Illinois, was recently named Scientist of the Month by the Chicago chapter of the Association for Women in Science. “Dr. Utschig has defined her own path and stayed true to herself as she has brought novel bioinorganic chemistry approaches to the long-established field of photosynthesis research, while being the mother of three,” the chapter wrote.” Lisa is the lead principal investigator of natural photosynthesis at Argonne National Laboratory with the Solar Energy Conversion Group.
Sean Minear ’84 retired as executive chef at Camp Kawanhee for Boys but continues as the longtime sexton of Mountain View Cemetery in his hometown of Weld, Maine.
Above: These Cornellians joined Matthew Lang ’96 of Monument, Colorado, for his commitment ceremony on July 23, 2022, with Kacy Winters. From left: Ted Neal ’95, Eric Ewert ’92, Mike Farmer ’96, Ryan Sweeney ’16, Kari Knowles ’95, Kerry Rogers Daugherty ’96, Matt Lang ’96, Gavin Winters ’23, Keighly Ballje Appel ’97, and Kevin Appel ’96.
After meeting at Cornell and dating for five years, Cynthia Valenzuela ’18 and John Bendewald ’17 were married June 4, 2022, in Centennial, Colorado.
Alisa Baum ’91, Chicago, Illinois, is executive director of the James Lumber Center for the Performing Arts, a multivenue arts center at the College of Lake County in Grayslake, Illinois. After an extensive arts career at nonprofit, commercial, and government organizations, she is thrilled to be part of this mission-driven institution of higher learning.
Angela Lehmann ’91, Webster Groves, Missouri, and Tammy Weiland Dufeck ’92 traveled to Italy, Slovenia, and Croatia last September. “The trip was full of canals, churches, coffee, castles, caves, and a castle in a cave!” Angela wrote.
David Schultz Fullerton ’92, Arden Hills, Minnesota, still works for the state of Minnesota in vocational rehabilitation. He has been training in Chinese martial arts for 24 years and teaching for the past 12. “This year I finally opened a school of my own here in the Twin Cities,” he reports. “Scary to be a small business owner, but very exciting too.”
Monica Bigger Ljiljanich ’92, Tonawanda, New York, returned for her 30th reunion and reports it was a beautiful weekend on campus and good to reconnect with classmates, especially Tricia Gantner Bunten ’92 and Richard Bunten ’91. She and Tricia were roommates for two years on the fourth floor of Bowman-Carter.
After living in Iowa for 34 years Melanie Lucero ’92 retired from her teaching career and moved back “home” to Colorado. She lives in Colorado Springs and looks forward to traveling more and spending time with family and friends.
Sean Dolan ’93 has been a school counselor at Lake Placid (Florida) High School for 22 years and a cross country coach for 13 years. He and his wife have a preschool-aged son.
Don Kasak ’93, Manchester, Missouri, has been catching up on travel and visits with Cornellians. In the past year he accompanied his wife to Portland, Oregon, for a conference, where he got reacquainted with Jennifer Shaffer Greenberg ’94 and John Hendricks ’95, and met up with Brian Gardes ’95 at a bar he owns, The Pharmacy PDX. A few months later they traveled to New Mexico, spending time at the Santa Fe home of Val Nye ’93 and Joel Yelich ’94, where they experienced views of mountains, sunsets, and curious ravens. In the fall they went to the Kansas State Fair and enjoyed a day with Joni Rasmussen Young ’93 visiting farms and wineries around Wichita.
Melissa Stephens ’93 continues to create, exhibit, and teach encaustic painting from her studio in Walnut Creek, California. She recently joined the International Encaustic Artists Board of Directors, and is president of NorCAL Wax and Valley Art Gallery. She curates and founded “Hope Lives: Art for ALS,” an annual fundraising and educational art exhibition in San Francisco. The exhibition opens each May (ALS Awareness Month) to honor her sister, who was diagnosed in 2020. Melissa travels frequently to Minnesota to spend time with her sister, family, and friends including Kathryn Rich Davis ’94, Ingrid Casperson ’93, Ann Lichliter ’93, Jen Donahue ’94, and Katey Kinley ’90
Jennifer Weiland Binstock ’94, Ham Lake, Minnesota, reports that, “after staying home with our miracle surprise for nearly six years, I am back in the classroom.” She is a halftime reading teacher at her local middle school and volunteers in her son’s classroom, where she enjoys being known as Cole’s mom.
Jennifer Synhorst Pary ’95 lives in Spokane, Washington, with her two teenage sons. She’s a vascular neurologist with Kaiser-Permanente and was elected to the board of directors of Washington Permanente Medical Group.
Matthew Lang ’96, Monument, Colorado, celebrated 25 years of owning Lang Investment Services. Over four years ago he hired Ryan Sweeney ’16 as his junior partner. Matt and Ryan were AXEs at Cornell and met at an AXE Homecoming tailgate when Matt was on the Alumni Board.
Rebecca Scanlan Hait ’97, Palm Beach Gardens, Florida, enrolled in the UCLA Extension program to become a certified college counselor, with expected completion in June. Her new company, Custom Fit College Counseling, complements her one-on-one SAT and ACT tutoring business. Her daughter will graduate from high school in May, and “my husband and two golden retrievers help me stay sane through it all,” she writes.
Claude Howard ’97, Springville, Iowa, was featured in The (Cedar Rapids) Gazette and the local ABC-TV affiliate last fall when the Springville high school volleyball team he coaches—with his daughter Nia, as the senior setter— competed at state for the fourth consecutive year. Nia was a first-team all-state selection and plans to attend Cornell next fall. Claude was awarded Alumni Coach of the Year at the C Club Breakfast during Homecoming 2022.
The Chicago chapter of the Association for Women in Science named Lisa Johnson Utschig ’90 Scientist of the Month, stating she “defined her own path” and “brought novel bioinorganic chemistry approaches to the field of photosynthesis research, while being the mother of three.”
Johnnie Johnson ’97 accepted the role of vice president for enrollment management at Washington College in Chestertown, Maryland, and moved there from Lexington, Kentucky, where he had been vice president for admissions at Transylvania University.
Adia Johnson Melrose ’97, Beaumont, Texas, married Rodney Melrose on Jan. 14, 2022, and after eight years teaching elementary students, she started a job as a Veterans Affairs navigator with U and I, a small nonprofit. She will provide employment services to military veterans.
Jennifer Albrecht ’98 purchased her first home in Bayfield, Wisconsin, a year ago and is just three blocks from Lake Superior. She has transitioned to freelance consulting and is enjoying playing a part in many great projects including Queen’s View, a new bed & breakfast in Bayfield.
James Salaiz ’98 decamped from New York City to Shelter Island, New York, during the pandemic and has since made it his permanent residence.
“During lockdown out here, my husband, Mark, and I were so immersed in nature, I wanted to throw myself and my work into that escapist experience,” he told the publication Northforker. Using clay, porcelain slip, glaze, and beach glass, he creates a series of works that explores the fragility, adaptability, and ingeniousness of nature.
Amy Anneberg Klein ’99, Broomfield, Colorado, reports she is mostly a stay-at-home mom/chauffeur/activity director for her 3-year-old daughter and 5-year-old son. In 2022 she inadvertently embarked on a new career in freelance writing. Initially she was blogging for several small businesses but is now also writing press releases and website copy. She has also recently laced-up her tap shoes and taken to the stage for the first time in 20 years.
Continuing to support the Department of Defense intelligence agencies, Brad Willet ’99, Annandale, Virginia, recently took on a newly established role as business manager for the Office of the Inspector General. This year marks 21 years in federal government service.
WEDDING
Lauren Kott ’06 to Scott Jorgensen, July 9, 2022
BIRTHS
Logan Au, Jan. 19, 2022, to Echo Liu ’07 and Shiu-chung Au
Brooke Marie Wall, Sept. 13, 2022, to Brian Wall ’08 and Stephanie Wall
Jane Christy ’00 reports she is enjoying her 23rd year of living and teaching K-12 art in the Marshall Islands. An avid traveler, to keep sane on the island without leaving for two-and-a-half years during the pandemic, she channeled her energy into creating art. In 2021 Jane held her first solo art show in 21 years. It featured 54 new paintings, sculptures, collages, illustrations, and even some poetry. In 2022 she held another show with over 150 pieces of 2D and 3D artwork created for or with her students during her first 22 years with them.
Adam Kaufman ’01 raises corn, soybeans, and cattle on the family farm in Ainsworth, Iowa. He also owns and operates four Pancheros Mexican Grill restaurants in Columbia and Jefferson City, Missouri. During winter he officiates high school basketball and during the summer he teaches golf, if he has time. His wife, Erin, is a physical therapist and they have two daughters.
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Melissa Stephens ’93 curated and founded “Hope Lives: Art for ALS,” an annual fundraising and educational art exhibition in San Francisco. The exhibition honors her sister, who was diagnosed in 2020.
Katie Crooks ’04 returned to the U.S. with her family after seven years in Asia. During her family’s transition, Katie secured a job as director of the Lucy Burns Museum at the Workhouse Art Center in Lorton, Virginia.
Martin Krulatz ’04, Camdenton, Missouri, continues to provide ER trauma care as a registered nurse. Martin has four children—ages 14, 13, 11, and 9—with many activities.
Nathan Johnson ’05, St. Joseph, Missouri, moved to a new house on the same street. He reports that his wife, Alyssa Squier Johnson ’07, keeps them living comfortably and with good coffee.
Lena Hann ’06 received tenure and promotion to associate professor at Augustana College in Rock Island, Illinois. 2021-2022 was a big year: She continued her research on abortion care workers’ lived experiences and published new research about patients with Hidradenitis Suppurativa, a chronic autoinflammatory skin condition. She also spent a month in Mexico completing her yoga teacher training and another month in Iceland and Sweden planning a Whole Person Health study abroad course. Lena recently opened her own small private yoga studio in Rock Island and has enjoyed teaching yoga at different studios and retreats in the Midwest and Sweden.
Lauren Kott-Jorgensen ’06, Lakewood, Colorado, married Scott Jorgensen on July 9, 2022, and “gained a beautiful stepdaughter, Raelyn, age 7.”
Shortly after their marriage Lauren was diagnosed with breast cancer and has been undergoing chemotherapy and several surgeries, after which they will take a delayed honeymoon. Lauren is in her 17th year of teaching in the Jefferson County, Colorado, Lakewood High School IB program. “Despite all of life’s recent challenges, we are staying positive!” she writes.
After a decade of serving as a manuscript peer-reviewer, Alice Wagner Levin ’06, Littleton, Colorado, was selected as assistant editor for the American Association of Pathologists’ Assistants national journal The Cutting Edge. In July 2022 the American Journal of Respiratory and Critical Care Medicine published a case study titled Intrapulmonary Bronchopulmonary Anastomoses in Severe COVID19-related Acute Respiratory Failure, on which Alice was a co-author.
Sarah Brungard Clough ’07, Lisbon, Iowa, was promoted to senior consultant and principal at Marts & Lundy and received the 2021 Volunteer of the Year award for the Lisbon-Mount Vernon Ambulance Service.
Echo Liu ’07, Lexington, Massachusetts, gave birth to her second son in January 2022. Her older son is 3.
Brandon Wellman ’07, St. Paul, Minnesota, graduated in 2022 with a master’s in library and information science from St. Catherine University. He is an associate librarian with Minnesota’s Anoka County Library system.
Nathan Benzschawel ’09, Oakland, California, completed a master’s of science in information systems at the University of San Francisco in 2021. He began a job as a data analyst for Kaiser Permanente in April 2022. He writes that he still uses One Course At A Time planning strategies to dive in and adapt quickly in work and in life.
Nicole Bienfang ’09, Johnson City, Tennessee, is director of first impressions at the Salvation Army’s local homeless shelter, where she warmly welcomes individuals with housing insecurity and starts them on their journey toward upward mobility, housing, and food security. Nicole writes that she uses her soft skills molded at Cornell, and is overjoyed she is getting paid for her passions by an organization that cares for her and the people she serves while being in alignment with her personal values.
Elinor Levin ’09 was elected to serve as Iowa House Representative for District 89, Iowa City and University Heights.
Nolan Schillerstrom ’15 to Whitney Seabrook, April 24, 2021
Oriana Henney ’18 to Kyle Camilleri, Sept. 26, 2020
Cynthia Valenzuela ’18 to Johnathan Bendewald ’17, June 4, 2022
Cole Joseph Newcomb, Oct. 8, 2021, to Laura Dudgeon Newcomb ’10 and Joe Newcomb ’11
Clara Elizabeth Nothern, Aug. 18, 2022, to Elizabeth Von Nothern ’10 and Nicholas Nothern ’10
Liam Elijah Park, July 7, 2022, to Valerie Collins Park ’10 and Matt Park
Athena Louise Mattern, Aug. 28, 2022, to Buddy Mattern ’16 and Ella Peitz Mattern ’16
Hadleigh J Rose Camilleri, Sept. 11, 2022, to Oriana Henney Camilleri ’18 and Kyle Camilleri
“Heretic,” a memoir by Jeanna Kadlec ’10, was published by Harper Books in October 2022. The book, a story of leaving the evangelical church and the search for radical new ways to build community, was named one of the “Best New Books” of fall 2022 by People magazine. Her book tour was scheduled to bring her to the Hilltop during Block 5 during which she was to work with creative writing seniors. She lives in Brooklyn, New York.
Lindsay Robinson Bachman ’11, Simpsonville, South Carolina, transitioned to a new role as donor development manager for the March of Dimes, South Carolina. She loves being able to serve a cause so close to her heart.
Shire Feingold ’11, New Hartford, Connecticut, accepted a role as the assistant director of leadership and reunion giving at Yale School of Management, and she said yes to marrying Justin Ferrari. “We are planning to tie the knot in upstate New York at our favorite winery in summer of 2023,” she writes. “A visit to the Hilltop is at the top of our travel destinations as newlyweds.”
Maricruz Gutierrez-Villa ’14, Glasgow, Scotland, earned her master of science degree from the University of Glasgow.
MacKenzie Dreeszen Rutter ’14, Ankeny, Iowa, was elected to represent the Iowa Young Republicans as the national committeewoman.
Maren Elnes-Kaufmann ’15 and Will Kaufmann ’16 moved from Denver, Colorado, to Portland, Oregon, and became first-time home buyers. Will took a job as an agent at KPD Insurance, and Maren is an architect at GBD Architects.
Nolan Schillerstrom ’15, Charleston, South Carolina, was the Rogers Fellow in Environmental Studies in South Carolina as a Cornell student— and is now the Audubon Coastal Manager for South Carolina. Nolan married Whitney Seabrook in 2021 and they bought their first house in early
2022. Nolan also completed his master’s of environmental and sustainability studies at the College of Charleston in 2021. Whenever he’s not working for the birds, he is enjoying woodworking in his garage or coaching crossfit at CrossFit Johns Island in South Carolina, he reports.
Fionna Flynn ’16 lives in Charlottesville, North Carolina, with her partner, Julia Moore, and pup, Louie. Some may remember Louie as a puppy on the Hilltop. He is now officially a “senior” dog but “still an Olympic-level Kongcatching athlete.” Fionna is busy cultivating shiitake mushrooms and learning how to keep beehives, in addition to keeping up with her ever-expanding garden.
Nick Marn ’16, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, planned to complete his master’s degree in computer science in 2022 and is excited to start his next chapter as a cybersecurity engineer focusing on industrial control systems.
Hana Martin ’16 is happily settled outside of Atlanta in Duluth, Georgia, with three rescue cats. After teaching for five years, she took a step back and has worked as a barista since 2021.
Oriana Henney Camilleri ’18, Medford, Oregon, and her husband, Kyle, welcomed their first child, Hadleigh J Rose, just two weeks before celebrating their two-year wedding anniversary. Oriana received a promotion to patient access supervisor at Asante Health Systems and is working toward her MBA with a focus in healthcare management.
Melissa Drew ’18, Minneapolis, Minnesota, received her master of arts degree in Germanic studies in May of 2022 and is enrolled in the graduate assistant program toward a Ph.D. at the University of Minnesota.
Ryan Wiley ’19 came back to work at Cornell as a senior admissions representative.
After completing a triple major (psychology, music, and educational studies) at Cornell, Samantha Flower ’20 received a master’s of science degree in human resource development from Villanova University in 2022. She is working as a human resources generalist at the University of the Arts in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.
Alondra Granados-Diaz ’20, Mesa, Arizona, is in her second year of law school.
Paige Klug ’21 is pursuing a master’s degree in geology at Texas A&M University.
Amy Talman ’22, Highland Park, Illinois, entered into real estate at Baird & Warner-Gold Coast in Chicago.
People magazine listed “Heretic”—a memoir by Jeanna Kadlec ’10 that tells a story of leaving the evangelical church and the search for radical new ways to build community—as one of the “Best New Books” of fall 2022.
One of Cornell College’s only Rhodes Scholars and a longtime Coe College professor of philosophy and computer science, Peter McCormick ’65 died Aug. 29, 2022, in Durango, Colorado. He was 79.
He held a Ph.D. in philosophy from the University of Michigan, an M.S. in computer science from the University of Iowa, and B.A.s from Cornell College (in philosophy and German) and Oxford University. At Cornell he played violin, sang in Oratorio, and joined the swim team.
McCormick taught at Coe from 1974–2018, helping to establish Coe’s honors program in 1982. He played a critical role in integrating the internet to campus operations as Coe’s first director of academic computing in 1994. He firmly believed in a liberal arts education and vibrant campus experience, and in addition to constantly advocating for the importance of developing a breadth of knowledge, was a familiar presence at athletics and campus events. “Beyond his incredible intellect, Peter was a gifted athlete, and for many of us, he good-naturedly delivered the worst thrashing we ever received on the squash court,” the Coe President’s Office wrote in a message after his death.
He established the Peter McCormick ’65 Cultural Diversity Endowment at Cornell to promote student awareness and understanding of cultural diversity in the U.S., especially the cultures of historically important groups such as Native Americans, that have become marginalized in contemporary America.
Survivors include a brother and sister-in-law.
Ann Evans Berthoff ’45, Concord, Massachusetts, Nov. 26, 2022
Katherine Koppelo-Nelson Mathias ’45, Moorhouse, U.K., July 31, 2022
Lois Lange Menkemeller ’46, Monticello, Iowa, Sept. 6, 2022
Lorraine Lehrman Taylor ’46, Mechanicsville, Iowa, Aug. 17, 2022
Elsa Beck Moloney ’48, Bradenton, Florida, March 22, 2022
Mary Joanne Curnutt ’49, Rock Port, Missouri, Feb. 5, 2022
Richard P. Small ’50, Tulsa, Oklahoma, Nov. 15, 2022 (see page 2)
Elston Van Steenburgh ’50, Fort Myers, Florida, Dec. 8, 2022
Harry Bittle ’51 , Gibsonia, Pennsylvania, Dec. 2, 2022
John Conde ’51 , Columbia, South Carolina, Aug. 29, 2022
Richard Thorsen ’51, Inverness, Illinois, Sept. 15, 2022
Robert Erdmann ’52 , Litchfield Park, Arizona, July 11, 2022
Janet Jones ’52 , Oak Park, Illinois, Sept. 25, 2022
Maxine Mielke Triff ’52 , Madison, Wisconsin, Nov. 28, 2022
George Hahn ’54 , Muscatine, Iowa, Aug. 22, 2022
John Wright ’54 , Brattleboro, Vermont, Sept. 11, 2022
Shirley Knox Frei ’55, Fargo, North Dakota, Sept. 1, 2022
Mary Hansen Gross ’56, Des Moines, Iowa, Nov. 18, 2022
Mary Jane Hamilton Kowal ’57, Westchester, Illinois, Aug. 31, 2022
Jo Compton Smith ’57, Aliso Viejo, California, Jan. 11, 2022
Diane Scowcroft Duffie ’58, Bowling Green, Kentucky, Sept. 6, 2022
Larry Scherf ’58, Clarinda, Iowa, Sept. 3, 2022
Florence Lowell Primrose ’59, Cedar Rapids, Iowa, Sept. 17, 2022
Cheryl Rueffel Miller ’61 , Waterford, Wisconsin, Dec. 4, 2022
Jerry Dowden ’62 , Madison, Wisconsin, Aug. 18, 2022
Ronald Parmely ’62 , Phoenix, Arizona, Sept. 20, 2022
Nicol Swanger Bieber ’64 , Unionville, Missouri, Oct. 6, 2022
Virginia “Ginny” Wright Boylls ’64 , Santa Fe, New Mexico, Oct. 23, 2022
April Stan Gauss ’64 , Houston, Texas, Nov. 13, 2022
Edward Gibbs ’64 , Aurora, Colorado, Dec. 22, 2022
Janet Hovde Hunt ’66, De Pere, Wisconsin, Dec. 12, 2022
Sheryl Parker Barnes ’67, Ida Grove, Iowa, Oct. 5, 2022
John Sheahan ’67, Beloit, Wisconsin, Sept. 14, 2022
Penelope Hoiles Oncken ’68, Missoula, Montana, March 2, 2022
Margaret Emery-Ginn ’69, Nashua, New Hampshire, Sept. 24, 2022
Howard “Skip” Severson ’69, Charlotte, North Carolina, Sept. 22, 2022
Barbara Weller ’70, Potomac Falls, Virginia, Sept. 20, 2022
Gayle Wallace ’72 , Mount Vernon, Iowa, Dec. 5, 2022
Nancy Dugan McQuaid ’80, Plymouth, Minnesota, Oct. 31, 2022
Karen Ubowski ’85, Aurora, Colorado, Aug. 6, 2022
Jennifer Hampson ’88, Joliet, Illinois, Nov. 13, 2022
Michael D. Williams ’88, West Des Moines, Iowa, March 21, 2022
Arno Niemand , Honorary Alumnus , Saratoga, California, Nov. 1, 2022
It’s 3 a.m. on a Wednesday as I adjust the ventilator and IV drip settings for a middle-aged man struggling in Room 5. I’ve been his ICU-critical care doctor for the last seven hours. When he arrived I was simply his ER doctor. But there are no open ICU beds in the state. So, for now, he gets me.
Last week I was the obstetrician for a young woman in labor at term. I practice in an “OB desert” with no specialty services for about 60 miles, so she got me. In the last several years emergency medicine physicians have been pressed into service well beyond the scope of their expertise. Mine are just a few daily examples.
I think I’m managing the stress of all that pretty well. I try to be … mindful. My amazing wife reminds me what a privilege it is to participate in a career where I get to make a difference to someone at least a few times in a 12-hour shift. Like most things in life, she’s right, again. But something else that helps mitigate the stress is a familiarity with managing change.
I remember walking out of Law Hall as a freshman in the fall of 1987. In those days students had to reserve a timeslot to use one of eight computers to craft and then print essays on a dot matrix printer. My paper in hand, I felt pretty good as the autumn leaves swirled around my feet. I recall having a palpable awareness that everything I was doing in those
times was an investment in who and what I would become. Cornell transformed me. The block schedule forced us to adapt to new subjects and new professors every month. In nearly every class the craft of writing was emphasized. For me, anthropology didn’t stress what to believe, but instead taught me to understand why I held certain beliefs. And in all of this, we learned to navigate change.
Darwin proposed the concept that it’s not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent, but the one most responsive to change. When I think about the polarity and conflict in current public discourse, I can’t help but think that resistance or simple discomfort with change is sometimes at the heart of so much rancor.
I am grateful for the lessons learned on the Hilltop. Steeped in the Cornell experience, each of us evolved. The world needs us to apply those lessons to connect, to endure, to empathize, to lead, to participate—to thrive amidst the changes.
Lance VanGundy ’91, M.D., graduated with a B.S.S. in anthropology and biology. He married his high school sweetheart after his sophomore year and hasn’t scared her away after more than 30 years of marriage. They raised three daughters. He has practiced emergency medicine in his hometown of Marshalltown, Iowa, since 1998 and is a published author of epic fantasy.
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