Bill's Latest Interactions
Randy and I were friends at Oakmont School -- 1st grade through 4th grade -- and we often traded baseball cards at his home near the American Legion. Although we didn't remain close after I moved on to Brookline School, I remember him as a fast quarter-miler in junior high and, possibly, high school and an excellent student.
Posted on: Sep 20, 2020 at 4:42 PM
Forever young at 73, Rob! Welcome to the club.
Dick, I’ve sent you a private message via this web site with some information on Jerry, whom you can find on Facebook.
Posted on: Dec 20, 2019 at 10:46 AM
Happy birthday, Nick: I hope it's the start of an excellent year -- with good health, happiness, fun and frolic. All the best, Bill
Happy birthday, Gator! All the best, Mox
During our years at Haverford, Fred and I had only a passing acquaintanceship, but after high school, we got to know each other playing racquetball at Riverside and the Franklin Plaza Hotel. On court, Fred was a gritty competitor -- powerful (as Nick Settanni can attest), mobile, determined and fair. Off the court, I enjoyed our talks about Haverford, our mutual friends and growing up.
Ron was a great friend and an equally excellent doctor. In 9th grade -- long before quaffing beer and girls began to dominate our weekends -- Ron, Kingman Davis, Rob Klugman, Jeff Carter and I -- would often gather on Friday nights in the den of Ron's home on Earlington Rd. to play Risk. I can also vividly recall Ron and Kingman competing against each other one summer in the 440-yard dash at the junior high school track. Having spent several hours with Ron in the days before out 50th reunion, I knew that he had been grappling -- with courage and determination -- with a host of serious medical issues. I also learned during our lunch that day what a proud and loving father and husband he was. Whenever one of our classmates dies, especially someone like Ron whom I considered a friend, I always think of the John Donne work, "No Man is An Island." It's worth reading if you have the time.
That's such sad news about Tom: I first remember him as a rugged wrestler in junior high school. I think he wrestled at 138 pounds in 9th grade, and he was tough, agile and hard to beat on the mat. In high school, I occasionally had to cover Tom in lacrosse, and that was always a challenge.
I last saw him one night in college -- I'm guessing this would have been in the late 1960's, possibly 1970 -- sitting at the bar in Burke's on Eagle Rd. talking about what we'd been doing in the years since high school. Tom was a good man, who seemed to let his actions -- particularly in sports -- speak far louder and more meaningfully than his words.
Tom was a stellar student whose irreverence vied with his intellect. Tom, Rob Klugman, Paul Wright and I were on a quiz team together in junior high; we called ourselves the "Protest Cats." Now two of our lineup -- Tom and Paul -- are gone. The last I heard about Tom was a report from Tom Horne, who encountered him in the library at Columbia University, probably in the early 1970's. I tried to locate him for our 45th reunion, but failed in my efforts.
I had to cover Chas in one of our reunion basketball games. I'm guessing this was at our 20th reunion in 1985 or so. He was faster and more mobile, and his jump shot was unerring. In thinking about his death, I remembered this poem, which I first read at Haverford. It seemed right to share it after reading some of our fellow classmates' comments about Chas. He was a good man who left us far too soon.
'No Man is an Island'
No man is an island entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as any manner of thy friends or of thine own were; any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind. And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.