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Photographed by classmate Joe Gromelski during their Bates days, John Jenkins ’74 touched many lives deeply.
Last year’s death of John Jenkins ’74, a beloved alumnus, educator, and community leader who served as mayor of Lewiston and Auburn, reverberated through the Bates community, especially among alumni of Walt Slovenski’s track program, of which Jenkins was a member. His obituary is in this issue.
For more information about the John Jenkins Scholarship Fund being established at Bates, contact Eric Foushee at College Advancement: efoushee@bates.edu or 207-755-5985.
To contribute to a story collection about John Jenkins, email your story to Chuck Radis ’75, cradis@maine. rr.com, by July 1.
John and I never met in person but exchanged a number of messages on Facebook. With all of the racial tension and everything going on, John continued to feed me little pieces of advice and suggestions that were honest while also almost transformational.
To some extent I definitely took it for granted. I wish I asked him more questions and picked his brain a bit more than I did. He not only welcomed it but he encouraged it. He wanted to be a resource, he wanted to help keep the ball rolling forward, and for that, I’m incredibly grateful. Adam Spencer ’14 Medford, Mass.
On a very cold Vermont Saturday morning in February 1972, John, Joe Grube ’73, and I were left behind when the team bus left the Holiday Inn for our meet at the University of Vermont.
Walt did it on purpose: He was tired of waiting for us. As Joe recalled, we missed the bus probably because he and John were watching cartoons together. It ended up being an adventure. We hitchhiked to the meet, arriving just in time for our events. We did well in our events, and Bates won the meet.
Bob Littlefield ’75 remembers the long bus ride home on Route 2, how the silence was broken every 15 minutes or so by John, a city guy from Newark, N.J., loudly proclaiming how we had been left “way the hell up in Ver-mont.”
The story of our day didn’t show up in the meet results, of course. But many years later, John told our story at Walt’s memorial service in the Chapel. His retelling, as with everything he did, was filled with humor, grace, and love. Joe Bradford ’73 Plymouth, Mass.
On those long bus rides I can remember him toward the back of the bus holding court, keeping everyone laughing throughout the trip, with Walt eventually standing up and yelling, “No belly laughing!” — fearing that someone might pull a stomach muscle by laughing too hard. James Anderson ’76 Oak Ridge, N.J.
When I met John as a fresh- man, he was the first Black person I ever met. It was a time when racist jokes about many groups were common and felt “innocent” enough — but, I promise, if you ever had the privilege of meeting John, it was no longer possible to be an unknowing racist. He touched everybody he met.
I was serving as president of the Maine State Bar Association when John received our highest award, the John Ballou award, for his contributions to the public good. When he accepted the award, he spoke about growing up in a tough, tough area and how influential his single mom was in keeping him out of trouble. RIP John, you made a difference! Lester Wilkinson ’78 Augusta, Maine
Inspiring
The Marshall Hatch ’10 story was inspiring on many levels (“Resist, Inspire, and Rebuild,” Fall 2020). I have shared this story with a dozen others to illustrate how important his kind of community-building is for the sake of the young men he counsels and the surrounding community that needs them as much as they need it. Ann Phillips Hotchkiss ’78 Durham, N.H.
We white-male folks have had systemic racist attitudes built into us since birth, and need to have this process reverse. I’ve been working on mine since 1961 when, following my Bates graduation, I began to learn the depths of the racial divide in this country. Very subtle stuff. I’m proud of Bates’ effort to bring racial attitudes to the surface. Richard B. Larson ’61 Englewood, Fla.
Feat of Clay
I always enjoy insights into the Bates construction process (“Clay Play,” BatesNews, Feb. 25, 2021). But I’m left wondering: What happened to the clay that was excavated from the Bonney Science Center construction site? Where did those trucks go? And could Bates clay be suitable for bricks made onsite? That is, is it different from clay used by Morin Brick Co.? Gene O’Rourke ’89 Amelia, Ohio
The Bates clay was taken to a landfill. Morin clay and Bates clay are roughly the same “species,” so bricks could have been made from the Bonney material, although clay composition always varies from site to site.
A Good Deal
The item about Luiggi’s (“What’s in a Name: Luiggi’s,” Fall 2020) takes me back to the ’70s, when I would sometimes go to Luiggi’s and buy a cheese pizza for 75 cents, take it next door to the Blue Goose and buy an Old Milwaukee for 30 cents. Lunch or dinner for $1.05. Even when I was making $2.25 an hour as the concierge in Chase Hall, that was a good deal. Ken Paillé ’78 Chapel Hill, N.C.
Veterans Plaza
Thank you for the video and the information about the dedication of Veterans Plaza. My father, Everett W. Kennedy, Class of ’37, was killed at Anzio during World War II when I was an infant.
My mother, Esther Strout Kennedy Allen ’40, would have been thrilled with what you have done to honor veterans. She died in 2016, but if she were alive, she would be the first one to visit the plaza. Thanks to Bates for having it done! Louise Kennedy Hackett ’65 Merrimack, N.H. In addition to photographs of the plaza on page 9, a story about the dedication is at bates.edu/veterans-plaza.
1991 and Angela Davis
Many thanks for your beautiful and engaging piece about that unique night at Bates and in the world back in 1991 (“30 years ago: Gulf War, Angela Davis,
and a memorable night,” BatesNews, Jan. 15, 2021).
I was a student on campus and remember bits and pieces of the night. Your story helped me recall so much more, plus the behind-thescenes work and thoughts of Angela Davis on that night and the day after. Jason Yaffe ’93 Addison, Texas
I’ll never forget that night.
As the brilliant Leslie Hill, who, luckily for me, was my amazing professor, said about hearing Davis: She felt “pride in the power of a Black woman speaking truth to power: national, institutional, socially privileged power. Affirmation for an analytical approach that recognizes the significance and consequences of gender and racial politics. And inspiration to keep doing that work in ways that call forth collaboration and community-building.”
It was indeed powerful and a turning point for many of us. Melanie Mala Ghosh ’93 Boston, Mass.
In 1991, I was a civilian lawyer for the Secretary of the Air Force. On the night of Jan. 16, I was in an Air Force Learjet, returning to Washington, D.C., from a meeting in New Mexico.
We heard from Air Force dispatch that the planes had been launched to bomb Baghdad. The passengers — some of whom had been World War II pilots, and several who were Air Force officers — broke into cheers with cries of, “It’s about time.” It was a very different place that evening than the Bates Chapel. Wish I’d been there instead of in the jet. Grant Reynolds ’57 Tinmouth, Vt. The story recalling campus happenings on the night of Angela Davis’ talk at Bates, Jan. 16, 1991, coinciding with the outbreak of the first Gulf War, is at bates.edu/angela-davis-1991. One Bates student said, “I’ve just been really thankful to get my hands dirty.” And another said, “Playing in the dirt was the best thing.”
In different contexts and at different times, these two students both had good reason to heap praise on dirt this year, suggesting there are still ways to find what’s elemental — getting what we need although we can’t get what we want — even during a pandemic. The first quote is from Sam Gilman ’22, talking about the joy of getting off campus last fall to do fieldwork for his environmental studies course “Soils,” in which students dug holes and pawed around in the dirt to learn about soil characteristics at a historic coastal farm (see the feature in this issue.)
The second is from dancer Britt Seipp ’21, who spoke about a different kind of dirty dancing in the course “Dance Repertory” (see page 18.)
Just being with soil is like hitting psychological paydirt. During the early months of the pandemic, I came to enjoy walking a bike path along the Androscoggin River, in Lisbon Falls. But I more enjoyed leaving the pave- ment to walk into the woods, navigating ravines — kicking back slick leaves to get a firm footing in the dirt — hopping over brooks, sinking into muck, and picking a route through the puckerbrush. As Thoreau said, “The same soil is good for men and for trees.”
As a rule, we modern Earth dwellers have fewer and fewer flirtations with dirt. It’s true at Bates as well, notwithstanding the 2008 addition of Alumni Walk and its dirt, grass, and trees, which replaced a paved road.
A famous Bates football photo shows fullback Jamie Walker ’07 moving a pile of Colby defenders during a rainy game at Garcelon Field in 2006. Everyone’s covered in glorious dirt and mud.
Garcelon’s dirt is now covered by an artificial surface, which does offer benefits. It can be scraped clear of snow, creating a four-season outdoor space, complete with a warm microclimate, for physically distanced frolicking.
Gone, too, are the clay tennis courts that once dotted the campus. Gone (thankfully) is the use of a dirt pile to break the fall of pole vaulters.
The Gray Athletic Building once had a dirt floor for indoor track and other sports, including baseball. In March 1947, the baseball team drew crowds to its intrasquad games featuring a regulation infield diamond. Instead of an outfield, coach Ducky Pond decided whether a ball hit into a net suspended behind the infielders was a hit or an out.
It must’ve felt like being outside, playing in the dirt. “While the game is proceeding,” reported The Bates Student, “some of the squad members are seen lounging on the bench sitting in the hot sun streaming in through the skylights.”
At this writing, we’re planning an in-person Commencement (two sessions, for distancing purposes).
Seniors will walk along the Quad’s paved paths, then to their seats in front of historic Coram Library. With their feet on Bates grass and dirt — terra firma Batesina — they’ll watch their classmates walk across the Coram porch. We hope they will all feel, and find, something elemental.
H. Jay Burns, Editor jburns@bates.edu
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