Jan/Feb 2016

Steve Rose (1969rosesa47@outlook.com) writes to us for the first time: “The booming of autumn wind in the pines outside my window sounds like the audible rushing of time and prompts me to send in my first class note. Following graduation, I sailed with the navy for 30 years as a pilot and JAG, then jumped ship an hour after retirement to begin another 15 years as chief legal advisor for NATO in North America and a handful of European nations. After 45 years of working in large military organizations, I’m now content to follow Voltaire’s admonition at the end of Candide to cultivate one’s own garden. For me, this translates as being a one-hive beekeeper, serving as guest reader at my grandson’s kindergarten class, and burrowing into a personal library accumulated over many decades. It is wildly humorous, and sometimes disorienting, to grow old in a society that worships youth. So far, I have declined all proffers to embrace twitter-dom and other forms of social media. Of course, my kids consider this to be the curmudgeonly analog of my father’s declaration back in the ’80s that he would never use a computer. Each generation discovers its own Luddite impulses. Overall, the class of ’69 has been fortunate to live in a sweet spot in American history—a period of rising affluence, technological acceleration, and relative peace. We have a lot to be thankful for and a lot to be accountable for. I look forward to comparing notes with many of you further on down the trail at our 50th.”

Lee Bachman writes: “In June 2014 I married Silvia Urroz on Maui. Silvia is a native of Nicaragua, but has lived in Minnesota for 12 years. As this is the second marriage for both of us, we are now a truly ‘modern family’ with her three school-age children ages 14, 11, and 6. We now reside in Minnetonka, Minnesota. I retired from full-time employment in 2009, but keep busy with various board, consulting, and volunteer commitments. Like a number of us, I attended my 50-year high school reunion this week. I certainly don’t feel that old and I am looking forward to our 50th reunion in just four years. You can find me on Facebook. See you in four years!”

The sad stuff: Joe McCarty’s recent death was memorialized by his coworkers: “All of us at Robinhood Marine Center are sorry to report that our friend, coworker and former general manager, Joe McCarty, lost his courageous battle with esophageal cancer on August 8. Joe lived life to the fullest, and loved being on the water and around yachts. He graduated from St. George’s School in Newport, Rhode Island, and from Yale University and, based on his stories, majored in skiing and good times. Upon graduation, Joe and his longtime friend and classmate, Ben Ellison, purchased an old wooden 41-foot sloop in Camden, Maine, and began their dual lives around boats. They rebuilt Alice and sailed her along the coast and to the Bahamas for several years. Later, Joe and Ben became delivery skippers, and Joe continued on as a yacht captain, times he referred to with great memories and stories.

“Joe came to Robinhood Marine Center in 1985. He had been operating a marina that was also a Cape Dory dealership on Chesapeake Bay, and desired to move to New England to be close to his family. With Joe’s expertise, vision, and energy, Robinhood Marine Center grew in size and reputation, becoming one of the foremost yacht yards on the Maine coast. He served on the board and as president of the Maine Marine Trades Association, and was always a proponent for advancing the efforts of the industry. Joe was a knowledgeable rigger, mechanic, electrician, boat operator, and jack of many trades. He also could operate every item of machinery in the boatyard. In 2005, after 20 years at the helm, Joe retired as general manager. In retirement Joe also purchased and completely re-fit his beloved yawl Furly B and chartered her out each season.

“He had a thirst for life. When the cancer was discovered, he said that he had had a great life and had no regrets. Just wished it could last a little longer. Joe is survived by his loving wife Cindy, and a son and daughter.”

Carney Mimms remembers Charlie Lerman: “Charlie was a true original and a vivid presence during my time at Yale. I think we all knew from the moment we first met him that Charlie had the makings of a first-class scientist, a promise he certainly fulfilled. He was also a hard-hitting football player and possessed of a fine dry sense of humor. . . . I vividly remember the day I was introduced to him by my freshman roommate Ira Berkower, Charlie’s classmate at the Pingry School in New Jersey. Ira’s gruff, bear-like friend turned out to be surprisingly patient in helping me through Inorganic Chemistry when Ira’s patience flagged. Chemistry was organic to Ira and Charlie but entirely inorganic to me. They were my true and lasting introduction to the life of science. . . . I wouldn’t go so far to as to call it bullying, but Charlie never let up in his efforts to get me to join JE’s tackle football team. Somehow he found out that I had played, badly, for an undefeated high school team. I finally gave in sophomore year and went to three or four practices. After what turned out to be my last football practice ever, I got Charlie aside. “Charlie,” I said. “You’ll never understand this, but I now I know why I never liked football. It was the attention and the cheerleaders that kept me going in high school.”

“One is happy as a result of one’s own efforts once one knows the necessary ingredients of happiness: simple tastes, a certain degree of courage, self denial to a point, love of work, and above all, a clear conscience.”—George Sand, novelist (1804–1876).

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