Coincidences

The other day, Alan Rozinsky '62, who with his wife Bobbie is soon to retire to Florida, ending decades of residence on campus and two teaching careers so illustrious they have recently been honored with the Alumni Order of Old Farms, handed me an envelope.  Among the things in it was a tribute to legendary English teacher Sid Clark written by one of his former students, Thomas Steinbeck.  Steinbeck tells the story of over-hearing Mr. Clark say to a stranger who had seemed to question the wisdom of Sid's career choice: "I'm always deeply impressed with those people who can see what is before them; happily I've always been blessed with the ability to see all the rest."

Young Thom was so taken by that statement that he wrote it in bold on the inside cover of his binder during French class.  Years later, when Thom had written a draft of a play, he presented to his father for his review, bound in that same AOF binder.  The father's first question was not about the play but about the quotation inscribed in the binder.  When Thom related the origin of the inscription, his father said "I know Sidney Clark.  He was your English teacher," and headed for his own voluminous library.  Soon, Thom's father produced a dusty tome and told him he would find the quotation on a certain page.  Thom soon discovered that Sid had been quoting Euclid, and the full quotation reads; "I am ever profoundly awed by those wise beings that can see plainly what stands before them.  Happily, the gods have blessed me with the ability to see all the rest."

When Thom expressed his amazement that his father could make that connection and remember the book, his father told him to check the flyleaf, where he found "a yellowing Avon Old Farms library bookplate with Sidney Clark's name written at the bottom."  It seems that Sid had loaned the book to Thom's father, who had yet to return it.  For my money, this would be an interesting story if it ended here, but by now you'll have guessed that Thom's father's name was John and that he was himself adept at turning a phrase.
So why relate this story?  Have I sacrificed the eloquence of Thom's tribute to Sid Clark in favor of an anecdote about an interesting coincidence made more interesting by the fact that one of the parties is a famous author?  To me, the story speaks to the existence of a small community of Men of Letters, of which Sid Clark was definitely a member.  It reminds me of a similar story involving a different Avon alumnus.  One of my own English teachers once told of accompanying a friend to dinner at the home of a particularly highly-regarded and long-tenured professor of English at Yale.  When after dinner the professor made a comment about the fascinating lives that words seemed to lead, my teacher knew he had once heard another of his teachers say very much the same thing.  This was the 1970s, but my teacher asked if the professor might remember a particular student who would have been at Yale just after World War II.  Despite the intervening years, the professor did remember his old student - my teacher's teacher.  He was Eddie Custer, AOF '43.

Of Hamlet, Farm Chores, Floods & Weddings

Top billing (the front page) in the March 24, 1936 issue of The Avon Weekly News-letter is split between that spring's production of Hamlet and impending wedding of school store (not yet the Hawk's Nest) employee Oscar Bohman.  Hamlet, despite keeping its audience of "nearly 190" in the Refectory for four and half hours, won rave reviews, with everyone from Mr. Whiting, who payed Hamlet, to Owre, who played (offstage) a rooster, earning plaudits.  It seems Ben Custer '10 was not the first of his family to take center stage at Avon.  Tom Custer '36 played Polonius, and his father (Ben's great-grandfather) Dr. Custer played the Ghost.  Actors and stagehands will note that some things do not change - the dress rehearsal for Hamlet lasted until 4:30 AM - and some things do - actors were allowed to sleep through the first four classes the next day!

In other news, Dr. Kammerer had announced a change in the way students would do farm work.  It seems work and school conflicted, with students on farm duty constantly racing from one place to the other, with the result that they ended up doing busywork at the farm and not learning anything about agriculture.  Under the new plan, boys were to spend "all 24 hours" at the farm on their appointed days.  Philip Schenck '30, who had been to Connecticut Agricultural College, would be on hand to "coach them in the scientific application of modern agricultural knowledge."
There was a flood on the estate that week, and according to Verne it was every bit as high as the flood of '27.  It also caused Verne to remember the sight of Mr. Iverson chasing a trout  - on horseback (Mr. Iverson was riding a horse, not the trout) during the flood of '27.
Modern Avonians will wonder at this: in the Founder's Era, there were Effort Grades in addition to the academic ones.  It seems that students who were on the Avon List (the top scholars) and had an A Effort Rating for the past several months were able to leave for spring break two days early!  If one had only one of those two distinctions - or was on the Council - one could leave a day early...

This Week in Avon History

The February 4th, 1936 issue of The Avon Weekly News-letter reminds us that student government really did some governing in the Founder's era.  The issue of the day was lateness and the Village Council's standing rule that more than ten latenesses in a week would mean the entire school must check in at Sunday breakfast.  When the newsletter came out on Tuesday, there were already eleven latenesses that week, and with the annual Mid-Winter Dance scheduled for Saturday night, the boys were hoping to be able to sleep in on Sunday.  Commander Hunter saved the day by proposing both that the new boy's lateness be forgiven (he did not yet fully appreciate the rules) and that any further lateness that week be punished with two hours hard labor, thus sparing the rest of the school an early Sunday morning.
The News-letter also reported on the Town Meeting held the previous Friday.  The Village Treasurer, Thomas Custer '36, reported that there was $231.35 in the treasury, which meant that, in the absence of a spike in breakage, there might be a general tax reduction.  Also making a report was Village Attorney Reed Estabrook '36, who would go on to spend decades as Chairman of the Board of Directors.
One student suggested the Council appoint a commission to study the problem of tent caterpillars on the Estate and how best to exterminate them.  A resolution to that effect passed unanimously, and William Whitney '36, the Warden, expressed his approval, as the solution to the tent caterpillar problem might well present an opportunity for "hard labor" to be assigned to any future late-comers.

Also in the news that week: the boys had seen a movie about - and demonstration of - "seeing eye" dogs,  the "Avon List" had been published, and it included both A. Sperry and M.L. Sperry (noteworthy in that they are science teacher Holland Sperry's two daughters Alice and Mary Lou), the Eagles and Diogenes teams had split a pair of recent hockey games, and the Thursday night fire drill was pronounced a success overall, despite a general lack of surprise.

Radio Silence

A little over a year ago, when I mentioned this project to a colleague from another school, he was quick to say - in the headmaster's presence - that the school should provide a sabbatical so I can complete it.  While I certainly never expected (or really wanted) a sabbatical, I am beginning to see his point.  It has been too long since I last made any real headway.  It has been a hectic year at school to this point.  The "Excellence in Teaching" initiative has gained some traction, but it has consumed time at a hefty clip.  (This is an initiative that puts a focus on excellence in classroom teaching; one aspect is a conscious effort to provide teachers with more specific, more meaningful feedback on their teaching, which, of course, takes time.)  Exams are under way, with grades and comments due soon, and a conference in Boston beginning tomorrow night.  Thus, I do not anticipate doing much on this project for another week or ten days.
After that, I hope to get back to conducting interviews and taking notes on the interviews I've already conducted.  So stay tuned; I haven't forgotten, and I hope to break the radio silence again soon with some interesting tidbits of Avon history.

Boar's Head

Tradition holds that the Boar's Head festival (Avon Old Farms edition) began during the Pierpont era, but, when I came across this picture last summer, I began to wonder whether the Founder's era also featured Boar's Head.  The picture is from the thirties and this youth would fit in well at a medieval feast.  On the other hand, the Avon Weekly News-letter, which leaves no stone unturned in describing life at school in the mid-thirties, makes no mention of Boar's Head.  So I spoke to Carol Ketcham, the school archivist, who was able to confirm that the first Boar's Head took place in the mid-fifties.  This youth might have been having his picture taken before a church pageant or perhaps a theater production in the refectory, but he was not headed for Boar's Head.
Aspiration and Perseverance, the history by Gordon Clark Ramsey, has the notes from the 1964 Boar's Head, and it looks as though very little has changed in the last 45 years.  We still start with the Jester yelling "Make Way!" and finish - after St. George has vanquished the dragon - by singing "Auld Lang Syne." Most of the things in between - including many of the Jester's lines and songs we sing - remain unchanged.  One thing that has changed is the musical entertainment.  In 1964, and into the 80s, Brad Mason, a veteran of Broadway who held a variety of teaching and administrative posts (including directing Boar's Head), sang "O Holy Night" as a solo.   Now, of course, we have the Riddlers, who offer a couple of musical interludes.  Nonetheless, it is clear that any of the 1964 cast members would have been able to play his role again in 2011 without much of an adjustment.

Footsteps - a personal aside

Yet another reminder this morning that I am following in my grandfather's footsteps.  I am in Virginia for a meeting of the College Board's Academic Advisory Council, and this morning V.P. Jim Montoya spoke briefly about the Board's history.  I had not looked it up, but I had been wondering when the College Board came to be; the Avon Weekly News-letter makes frequent references to Grandpa's consulting on College Entrance Exams.  I had wondered if Grandpa was working with the College Board (the full name of the Board is the College Entrance Examination Board), but I did not know whether it existed in those days.  Jim's brief history tells me that it did, and I am now relatively sure that this - my service to the College Board - is yet another way in which I am following in Grandpa's footsteps.
Of course, there are plenty of things to remind me of the family legacy at school; every visit to Brown Auditorium takes me by a picture of Dad, and the old board room, where I attend meetings at least weekly, contains a photo of Grandpa entertaining several students near the fireplace in his house in Diogenes (now the Lampe residence).  Still, I sometimes get an odd, not-exactly-deja-vu feeling when I discover another one of these connections.  If papers in his Islesboro study are any indication, Grandpa was a big Abe Lincoln fan - another thing we have in common.  I did not really know Grandpa, but I think of him as a taciturn man in the style of Calvin Coolidge; perhaps that is how I come by my dynamic social style.
So there is a bowtie-wearing Custer in the history department at Avon Old Farms, and he does quite a bit of volunteer work with the College Board?  The more things change, the more they stay the same.

Thanksgiving At Avon

These days, this time of year brings a 10 day vacation, with the boys heading for home after classes on the Friday before Thanksgiving.  It is a welcome respite after a long fall of work.  In the founder's era, though, Thanksgiving brought ONE day off - and even that day was not entirely off.  Instead of students' going home, parents came to school for the holiday.  The boys would play the last football games of the season in the morning - in '35, the Senior Eagles and Junior Diogenes won the day - before everyone, parents and even alumni included - went to the refectory for a traditional turkey dinner, "such as only Mr. Candels can make and serve."  After the meal and a brief speech by Dr. Kammerer, many of the parents went to the provost's house to meet Mrs. Riddle before taking their sons off campus for the afternoon and evening.  There was no study hall, but everyone was due back for the regular weekday lights out.
The Thanksgiving ('35) Issue of the Avon Weekly News-letter reports that the boys doing community service at Hill-Stead that fall had learned a great deal about preparing for Thanksgiving.  They had cut, brought in, husked, and shelled the corn ("What they haven't learned about corn harvesting just isn't there to learn"), and they had picked and sorted the apples for cider.  This was on top of the usual Hill-Stead chores of milking and caring for the cows, pigs, and sheep, etc.

This fall, by the way, Avon students have returned to Hill-Stead.  They are not going over to do farm chores, of course, but they are taking advantage of the farm work others are doing.  Graham Callaghan takes a group over on Sundays to visit the Farmers' Market that Hill-Stead hosts.