Five-Year Review From Meg Fallon Wheeler

With another five years under my belt as your class correspondent, I want to thank Fran for allowing me a few minutes of this special evening to reflect back on the past five years as captured through the eyes of you, the classmates who have answered my calls for news and reflections.

And what a five years it has been. I can't help but think back to what an incredible period in history it was when we were together for the first time on Mayflower Hill from 1962 to 1966—the Cuban Missile crisis, the death of John F. Kennedy, the horrors of the Vietnam war, and, on a lighter note, the arrival of the Beatles on U.S. soil. I'm sure we remember where we were when we first heard that awful news about JFK and where we were when we watched the Beatles on the Ed Sullivan Show. Well, the years between our 35th and our 40th reunion have been pretty memorable too. 9/11, soon after that 35th reunion, has changed our world forever. One of the results of that horror is a new war and a new vocabulary—weapons of mass destruction, axis of evil, shock and awe, Abu Ghraib, Haditha, embedded reporters, etc. Technological advancements in the past five years have given new meanings to old words: a blackberry is no longer just a fruit, palm pilots have nothing to do with tropical trees or airplane fliers, MySpace doesn't mean your side of the bed, and five years ago we weren't into text messaging, I-Pods, blogging, and wi fi. In the world of entertainment, can you remember what life was like before Desperate Housewives, The Apprentice, American Idol, reality TV, Benifer, Brangelina, and Hollywood babies with funny names? And despite predictions to the contrary, hell didn't freeze over before the Red Sox won the World Series. How did women our age exercise before the advent of Curves, and how did men our age—well, we won't go there, but Viagra and Cialis have also become a part of our vocabulary in the past five years. We members of the Class of '66 have left our 50's behind and are now 60-somethings. We have new labels—in some places we're called senior citizens, which mostly makes us cringe, although I kind of like it at the movie theater. Many of us are now called retirees, and a favorite new label for some is Grandma or Grandpa, or Nana, Papa, Granny, Bumpa, or whatever cute little titles come out of that first grandchild's mouth.

It's obvious from the news I've gleaned from you in the past five years that we're still an active, productive group of people. We go rafting, kayaking, mountain climbing, skiing, rollerblading, biking, swimming, backpacking, fishing, and sailing; we play golf and tennis and racquetball and hockey, we walk, run, garden, lift weights, do crossword puzzles, and take piano lessons, we meet the challenges of life-threatening illnesses with courage and determination, and we count the blessings of grandchildren to help us cope with the care of and ultimate partings of our beloved parents.

We have a very impressive list of classmates who have earned special recognition in the past five years:

Starting right here at this year's Colby reunion, our Class President Fran Finizio received a Colby Brick in recognition of his many years of service to the alumni association and to his class. Mary Sue Hilton Weeks was a workshop presenter and wowed a packed crowd with her trompe l'oeil painting. Bill Ingham had his own art exhibit at the Colby College Museum of Art, a dream come true for him and a reunion highlight for us as he spoke to a large audience about the creation of his exuberant paintings. Mike Gordon, a current Colby trustee, has endowed a new Gordon Scholarship Fund for deserving Colby students. And slightly further afield:

Peter Anderson was named his hometown's Citizen of the Year.
Susan Nutter was named the Library Journal's Librarian of the Year.
Barry Willdorf was named San Francisco's Lawyer of the Year.
Bill Koster became CEO of Neurogen Corporation, a large biotech development company.
Jo Manegold Dukes was recognized for her impact on environmental education in Arizona.
Claudia Fugere Finkelstein became a published author.
Ginger Holbrook had an art exhibit at her hometown library.
Greg Chabot has had plays published, in French.
John Carvellas has been honored with a scholarship fund established in his name at St. Michaels College, where this year's yearbook is dedicated to him.
Diane Roesing O'Brien has published another hometown history book.
Anne Ruggles Gere and her husband have adopted a six-year-old child.
Betty Ann Hernberg Went has grown her hair for Locks of Love.
And I know there are many many more classmates out there whose accomplishments have not been mentioned here. (I can't brag about you unless you tell me your news!)

We've also been world travelers in the past five years. Eight classmates live outside the United States: Susan Mahoney Michael in Portugal, Rob Sears in the Philippines, Janice Holt Arsan in Turkey, Peter Grabosky in Australia, Craig James in St. Vincent, Geoff Quadland, Andy Bear Nicholas, and Nancy Johnson Smith in Canada. Brad Simcock spends time in his wife's homeland of Japan, and Peter Anderson travels frequently to his wife's homeland of Argentina. The Rabenis and the Cains have traveled to Japan, the Keenes and Lou Friedler to China. Terry Saunders Lane has been to Vietnam. Daisy spent a semester at a university in Mexico. Doug Meyer and Toni Russell Merrick have sailed in the Caribbean; many of you, including Pam Harris Holden, Marcia Norling Oliver, Peter Lax, Terry Clark, Betty Ann Hernberg Went, Sue Footer Hummer, Pat Berg Currier, Denny Maguire, and the Inghams have traveled in Europe. Gayle Poinsette, Gary Barnes, and Sally and Terry Eagle have been to Australia. Bill Rynne, the Eagles, Lynne Egbert Eggart, Bill Donahue, Debbie Anglim Higgins, the Inghams, and I have been to Africa. Gary Knight has been around the world with the World Wildlife Foundation. Think of all those frequent flyer miles!

It's always fun to poll you on your memorable Colby moments—sledding down the hill on cafeteria trays next to President Strider's house (Sue Turner), frost on the inside of the dorm windows, forcing us to play bridge under quilts (Karen Riendeau), walking back to campus after swimming at the Waterville Boys Club and realizing your hair has frozen (Les Sutherland), Mrs. Knight's accounting class when she told us that Adam was the first accountant. He turned over the first leaf and made the first entry (George Cain), finding my missing underwear hanging on a rope from my second floor room in Mary Low to a window in Louise Coburn (Marty DeCou), meeting my wife-to-be at Onie's (Frank Musche). And oh, those regrets—what I'd do differently if I could do those Colby years again—study more, take a wider variety of courses, make more friends, drink less beer, be less afraid, have more fun, find the library before junior year, study and not get kicked out, take junior year abroad, take better advantage of all Colby had to offer . . .

Most refreshing to me as I read the news you send me is that as a class, we seem not to have lost our collective sense of humor. Perhaps that's explained by Ted Houghton's comment, "Getting old is kinda cool—you can become eccentric." It might sound strange to say that I chuckled as I read about Peter Anderson's removal of a tennis-ball sized brain tumor. Here's what he wrote: "People say that before the tumor was removed I was a fathead, and now I'm an airhead." Peter Lax wrote that he always mentions the Colby connection when he calls L.L.Bean from Oregon, but still no discounts. Anne Ruggles Gere wrote about having fun dealing with life's big questions—"Should I get my nails done?" And Tara reported that his wife is still gorgeous as long as he keeps the diamonds and furs coming." Betty Ann Hernberg Went still plays violin in her community symphony and calls herself the world's oldest second fiddle.

And wasn't it interesting to read how we dealt with turning 60 . . .

Peter Swartz wrote, "Decades ago, I decided that age was not something that should increase annually but that it is variable, like the temperature; one day I might be 53, the next day 37, the next day 42. I urge all of us to do the same, and furthermore, to celebrate undated reunions." (Does this explain why Peter was not at our 40th?)

Kay McGee Christie Wilson wrote, "Remember when all your friends were the same age, during your school days? The range has steadily widened. Now my friends are 30 to 80+. I find I am much less age-conscious."

Debbie Chase was searching for an honest answer to her four-year-old granddaughter's question, "Are you old?"

Frank Musche wrote: "I'm not quite there. In fact, I won't be 60 for another 12 to 14 years. I was very very young while I was at Colby."

Gayle Jobson Poinsette and Gary Barnes wrote, "We regret the loss of energy and agility, but the peace of mind with aging is mostly worth it. We would have been satisfied with the peace of mind we had at 50 and stopped time. We're going to have a big bonfire to celebrate the new decade."

Jemmie Michener Riddell wrote, "I still feel young—except when I remember I have a 35-year-old son . . ."

Peter Anderson wrote, "60. Who says I have to be 60? That's for old people."

And John Tara wrote simply, "I'm going to skip it."

The comment that most astonished me was John Cookson's. Do you remember this one? "60 days before my 60th, my wife surprised me with 60 roses. I then received a telephone call and an occasional present from a friend, relative, or business colleague for each of the 59 days prior to my birthday reminding me how many days were left until my 60th. When I had 30 days left I couldn't think of 30 more people who might call. One of the callers was Colby 66er Bill Rynne."

And then there was Diane Van Wyck, Diane, that outstanding Colby scholar and leader from whom we had heard so little since graduation. Suddenly, her news came pouring in in time for the May 2004 class letter, including this response to the "How Do You Feel About 60" question:

"As I approach the dreaded 6-0, instead of feeling poised, confident, and in control, with a strong network of friends and family, a home I can feel proud of, and a wide range of other interests (as I assume is the case with all my classmates), I feel distracted, frequently tired, generally out of control, have an apartment decorated with papers that looks like two affluent students occupy it, never see friends or family and consider reading the Wall St. Journal my primary recreational activity. CAN THIS WOMAN BE SAVED?" Perhaps we can all identify with at least parts of her very honest response, which makes her seem so perfectly human.

We have more plans ahead for the evening, so this is enough from you all via me for now. 132 classmates have sent me news in the past five years. That means there are 182 members of the Class of 1966 lurking out there somewhere, waiting to be tapped. Some of those are even here tonight. If you haven't already done so, I hope you will record your e-mail address in the notebook that has been at our class headquarters and is now here with me. I will be sending out a post-40th reunion letter later on this summer, and I invite you to contribute anything to that you might like—thoughts about being back here, seeing classmates and the campus, notes to classmates who aren't here, etc. I intend to get a '66 column into every issue of Colby magazine for the next five years as I have for the past five and hope to send out occasional class letters as well, but as you know, it all depends on you. E-mail has made this job so much easier, but I'm happy to get your news in any form. I love having so many pen pals, so keep it coming! Thanks, and stay in touch.

Meg Fallon Wheeler