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alumni Notes

Ray DuBois ’66, far left, parent of Pierre ’12 and Mary ’13, hosts a gathering of young DC-area alums joined by classmates Ferdie Wandelt and McKim Symington, back row at right.

and we look forward to our next visit with you good people.) Our 45th is rapidly approaching, so mark your calendars for May 14–15, 2010, and come party with your reunion committee comprised of chairs Greg Oneglia, Geoff Levy, Larry Morris and yours truly. If your scribe travels all the way from Hawaii, we expect a record turnout so get those calendars marked now. As Larry states, “Batten down the hatches classmates!” Before closing, allow me to express my thanks to all of you including, Biff Barnard ’63, who took the time to wish me well after my May double-knee replacement surgery. The day after my surgery, I had to fend off the grim reaper as my blood pressure plummeted and my pulse slowed to a snail’s pace, so your kind words, thoughts and prayers were genuinely appreciated. Part of the fascination with the popular ballads of 1620 is their anonymity. With these opening lines of Harold Bloom’s ballad Tom O’Bedlam, I bid you all a fond adieu: “From the hag and hungry goblin/ That into rags would rend ye,/ The spirit that stands by the naked man/ In the Book of Moons defend ye!”


Class Secretary: Peter J. Corrigan, 413 Wellington Rd., Delmar, NY 12054-3031, pcorrigan@; Head Class Agent: J. McKim Symington Jr., 1712 Birch Rd., McLean, VA 22101-4729 56 Taft Bulletin Fall 2009

Toiling in virtual obscurity, isolated from contact with classmates for months at a time especially during the cold dark winters of upstate NY, unjustly accused of oversights, defamation and other crimes against humanity, the lot of your long-suffering class secretary has not been easy. Where’s my stimulus package? Pete Smith, who held down this post in the early days, never told me about these privations. This dark cloud of self-pity and victimhood can be easily lifted; all it takes is some fresh material from suppliers, old and new. What about Jim Murfey, Tim Bayless, Jim Hedges, Shawn Moore, the aforesaid Pete Smith, and that Australian recluse, Bob Adams? These are people who at one time in their lives were very skilled at expressing themselves. In the summer months when snow and ice aren’t blocking passage to the outside world, it is possible to foist myself on the hospitality of others and this year has been no exception. As they have so graciously done before, Susan and McKim Symington hosted a wonderful evening for the Corrigans and Bob Whitcomb with his charming, beautiful, artistic better half, Nancy, at their captivating lakeside retreat, Camp Hetty, in Cooperstown. After jet-setting to Taiwan and Kenya earlier in the year on behalf of a foundation Bob’s involved with and holding down his editorial responsibilities at the Providence Journal, it was nice to see him get a chance to put his feet up for a few hours. It was even nicer to meet his delightful spouse and the question is: where has he been hiding her all these years? Again, I

recommend Bob’s wonderful blog column “This New England” to all classmates, wherever you live. Occasionally, you might find a fitting reference to a former coach or teacher, as I noticed when Bob was discussing a painting by Rockwell Kent and he alluded to John Small. In another issue, he wrote “wistfully” about the bygone era of our days at Taft. While not always wistful, Bob is usually witty and always writes so very well. Another classmate and his wife were too polite to turn away my clumsy intrusion into their home during a mad rush across Conn. to meet a train and then take a boat across the Sound. With little or no notice that I would be descending on them, Miranda and Tom Hook put their schedules on hold, took me in, fed me, recharged my batteries and gave me guidance to my destination. They aren’t in the Traveler’s Aid listings, but they should be. In the bargain, I got to enjoy their tranquil, sylvan setting, which was a restful elixir for this temporary road warrior. I later caught the L.I. Ferry, which a friend, Bryan Oliphant, and I took to see our old mentor Tony Duke for his 91st birthday. When Bryan was a boy in Old Saybrook, his doctor was the father of Tom Saunders. Tom now lives in Snohomish, Wash. I had no idea of this connection until recently. (Tom: I do wish I could have discussed with your father some of our mutual friend’s medical conditions. Perhaps he even knew about some of Bryan’s more exotic ailments. He ended up getting four tick bites when we visited the old Boys Harbor camp because—always the preppy fellow (Lawrenceville)—he refused to wear socks in the woods. One of the stories recounted at Tony Duke’s birthday gathering involved the infamous romp and ride that also included Geoff Hoguet ’68 and Hank Bertram ’69, who had worked at Boys Harbor, as did Dick Wechsler ’67, Paul Cowie, George Stearns, Van Midgley, Jim Murfey and Glen Gazley. If I can get proper verification from the Utah Fish and Game Agency that their catch was legitimate, I will send in photos of David Lotspeich and Van Midgley holding brown and rainbow trout allegedly caught by these two at some secret mountain section of the Green River or its tributaries, where Van took David last summer. David now lives in Louisville and described the great visit he had with Van, who’s based in Salt Lake. From Henry Devens, “My youngest, Carolyn, graduated from Franklin & Marshall with a double major in the field of environmental studies. We’ve had some spirited ‘conversation’ regarding global warming. She is doing a three-month internship in S. Africa this fall, then she’ll pursue a postgraduate degree.” Andres Pastoriza continues to impress with the breadth of his scholarly interests. A recent mailing finds him delving into the unique history of

Profile for Julie Reiff

Fall 09 Taft Bulletin  

Quarterly magazine of the Taft School

Fall 09 Taft Bulletin  

Quarterly magazine of the Taft School

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