Update 10-17-06

Hi,

First, a series of notes:

From Judy Hartstone:  Here's a memory that arose from reading Doug Solomon's notes.  There was some inter-class outing to a museum or concert in New York City, and we were all on our own for lunch.  Doug and Jan Atlas (older boys! from my sister's class) invited Marilyn Horowitz and me to lunch at the ever-popular Tad's Steak House.  I was too tongue-tied to be intelligible, I'm sure.  Probably giggled a lot, tried to be cool. You guys were SO cute! (not that you didn't know it!)  Alas, that's the end of the story.
   
    Unrelated, from Marilyn Horowitz Goldhammer:  Things here are fine.  Very busy.  The work I do revolves around the school calendar, so this is the busiest time of year.  I teach part time at American University and supervise student teachers, so I am buying note cards, name tags, lots of paper, number 2 pencils, and notebooks.  My other work is with a group called The Ophelia Project.  They are based in Erie, Pennsylvania, and work to create safer social climates for children and teens by addressing peer aggression, also known as bullying.  A lot of the programs are in schools, though now we are also working with the Girl Scouts and other community groups.
   
    From Janet Hernandez:  I just read the story about Andy Dolich from the American University magazine article.  It was so interesting and a nice write-up.  I just wanted to tell you how enjoyed it.
   
    From Jerry Bittman:  What a great, great article on Andy Dolich.  Even if the article wasn't about him, I would have enjoyed reading that success story.  There was one part of the article that really hit a chord.  Andy's friend Gallagher mentioned Andy's sense of humor.  That is the one thing I'll always remember him for.  Many times, I have mentioned to Andy that he should be a stand-up comedian.  It has been well documented that the average person is jealous of the success of a friend or relative.  However, nobody can be jealous of the success of a truly great guy like Andy Dolich.
   
    From Carol Bunim Okin:  The elementary school adjacent to South High School was Hungry Harbor Road School back in our day, though I believe it was later renamed Carbonaro after a retired principal.  Coincidentally, two months ago, we moved to a new community in New Jersey, and our next door neighbors are from Hungry Harbor Road -- seems like six degrees of separation is really only two.
   
    From Bern Cohen '61:  I want you to know I'm healthy and feeling fine.  I'm telling you this because yesterday I worked in a print ad shoot.  It's only a two-person ad, so I will be very recognizable in newspapers and magazines as both a patient in a hospice and one in a specialized nursing home.  I'm happy to be in both places, but I'm just acting, so don't be worried about what you see.  You might recognize my son in the photos, too.  He's Greg Weinberg, and he was all over the TV recently in a widely shown, very funny Tostitos ad.  Fortunately, he wasn't funny yesterday.
        Also, since I last wrote, I've done speaking roles in two more films where I'm credited.  And, by the way, the ad agency never tells us where and when an ad is published.  So it would be helpful if you see it and let me know where.  That way, I can hide it from my mother.
   
    From Emily Kleinman Schreiber:  I received the following message from Chris and Carl Bonuso:  Retired Social Studies teacher Doris Navin died in early October.  We were her colleagues in the Social Studies department, and her daughter Nancy contacted us and wondered if you could spread the news.  Doris Navin taught at South from some time in the 1960s until 1980.
        Emily also wrote that she was going to the Homecoming football game last Saturday to try and interest more South graduates in joining the Alumni Association.  She added that, unfortunately, she wouldn't be able to stay for the game and quickly got the following note.
   
    From Rick Sanchez '89:  As a volunteer assistant with the Varsity, I would hope that all alumni attending would stay for the game -- the support and cheers mean a lot to the kids and can be, at times, intimidating for the opponent.  And tomorrow's opponent deserves a vociferous crowd supporting the home team.  Last weekend during our game at Oyster Bay, several Seaford players were behind our bench heckling our guys all day long, being less than good sportsmen.
         Hope to see you and many other alumni in support of the football team's games!


Next, when the snow hit Buffalo, I didn't really think about it, because Buffalo always gets a lot of snow.  Then I heard a report on public radio detailing the damage, and I quickly wrote Ryki Zuckerman to see if she was okay.

Ryki wrote back:  It's not so much the snow now, which is mostly melted.  It wouldn't have been anything special if it happened later, when the trees were bare.  The city looks like a hurricane zeroed in on the trees.  Limbs everywhere.  Half a tree, downed, entangled with live wires, sits across the end of my block, a one-way street.  It's like that all over the city and nearby towns.  350,000 people are without power.  I've had electricity, except last night for five or ten minutes.  We're not supposed to drink the water without boiling it because there's no power at the water treatment plant and pumps.  Not supposed to wash dishes or clothes, either -- or ourselves!  I'm only drinking bottled water, thank you.

Ryki also included a poem she'd just written about the storm.

the storm

the color of autumn is white;
thunder-snow, the blaze of sky
infused with lightning, an eerie green;
the crack of limbs fills the night;
the cry of the maples
fills our ears,
there's dark of winter
where the trees
have eaten all light,
the land lies littered,
the culprit unseen;

a killer storm
surprised the realm;
dispatched the calm,
killed the elm;
the wrist of nigh-winter
is wrung and limp,
its legacy will be
this massacre of the trees;

10,000 gone, and maybe more,
some took down a wire,
some took a car,
the wires spit fire,
fire lit the night,
eclipsed by the thunder
of crashing leafed-branches,
eclipsed by the roar
of the storm-chased light.

"leaves they grow green
and the trees they do grow high"
but here in a century
of scandal and spleen,
the color of time runs thin,
and the color of autumn is white.
---Ryki Zuckerman, © 2006

Also, if you remember, when we last left Barbara Blitfield Pech in late September, she had just written:  "I was helping put prayer books into a box after the Rosh Hashanah service yesterday, when I somehow skidded out of my open back, low heel, slide shoe and rotated my ankle into a direction and position it was never meant to go."  Now, the further adventures of Barbara:

Note 1:  Not one to make anything ever about "me me me," but I'm calling in all my markers and explaining just that.  Having been through childbirth, breast cancer, assorted twists, turns, and even root canals, this is the topper.  The initial pain was to the immediate point of overwhelming nausea.  Now, the follow up is just myriad red tape and eventual jokes.  I still deeply like Miami, but its "best" doctors can't diagnose or seem to know what to do for a simple fractured heel; it has a city transit system that is designated for the handicapped but gets infuriated at anyone that needs assistance with city wide travel; its government advises that you can download the necessary medical forms, but you can't respond via e-mail or postal mail -- the forms must be brought in person.  Thank God for good and new friends who are there unconditionally.  They are good people.  At this time, I have another consultation with a podiatric surgeon because ortho handles legs and arms, but not feet.  The first reading on the KAT scan wasn't great news, but I'd crawl all over town if I had to, to find a doctor who would give me a lollipop, a pat on the head, and tell me "All those other doctors are wrong.  You're fine.  Go get a pedicure and have a nice lunch."

Note 2:  As you can imagine, this entire episode is taking its toll on me, mentally and certainly physically.  The paperwork for the hospital and insurance is overwhelming, and at this time the out-of-pocket expense is close to $30,000.  Look for me on the corner selling apples and pencils.  Needless to say, I will find an attorney to represent me and sue the facility where the accident happened, to someday recoup some of the expense and hopefully some small compensation, maybe a trip to Europe or a Jaguar.  I am supposed to have surgery now, be home for two weeks, then be in soft wraps for six to eight more weeks.  Stitches, pins, therapy -- all in all, three months without a guarantee that this is the final fix needed.  The bone could reject the screws and the implant, or it could just break from the pressure.  If nothing else, I have learned to appreciate life even more than before.  And I look forward to returning to the ranks of the moving.  But, just now, I'm hell on wheels.

Note 3:  After great deliberation with the surgical team, we have concluded that the surgery is not a fix.  The long term results are inconclusive and could pose greater additional problems.  With that, the option to review in three weeks is now the best case scenario.
Again, thank you for the support, words, wishes, understanding, and friendship.  I will keep you afoot of the new directions.

A quick postscript from Carol Bunim Okin to Barbara, which probably speaks for us all:     Good luck hopping along.  I broke my ankle and my leg on a friend's icy driveway New Year's Eve 1990, and there is life after crutches.  And don't believe the doctors if they tell you that you can never wear heels again!

Again several quick reminders:
Washington D.C. dinner:  Thursday, October 19.  For information contact Stu Borman
            at:  sborman@gmail.com

Next Alumni Association Meeting:  Thursday, October 19.  South High School library.
             7:15  PM.  Everyone welcome.

Class of '61 - '63 reunion:  Saturday, October 28.  For information contact Claire Brush
             Reinhardt at:  reino@optonline.net

Class of '66 reunion:  Friday and Saturday, November 10 and 11.  For information contact
            Michael Schimmel at:  mdschimmel@gmail.com

Class of '86 reunion:  Saturday, November 4.  HR Singletons, Bethpage, New York.
            For information contact Barbara Kirby Miller at:  516-797-1121

Oh, yeah, and something called the North-South game is this Saturday.