1952
Chicago, February 11. Have you ever wondered where the time has gone since Thanksgiving? The Durot kaleidoscope hasn't stopped turning since then:
Friday, December 13: decided to get married;
Wednesday, December 25: survived a Christmas in each of two households;
Tuesday, December 31: P&G finalizes the purchase of Searle's OTC business; out of a job;
Wednesday, January 1: felt pretty good — considering;
Tuesday, January 7: went to the hospital to have a kidney stone zapped by the new sitz bath procedure;
Thursday, January 9: to NYC for a week to work on starting up a new business;
Wednesday, January 22: off to the the Everglades for an Outward Bound trustees meeting;
Wednesday, January 29: first arrivals for three days of nuptial festivites (family only);
Friday, January 31: got married;
Saturday, February 1: left with bride for five days, two of them on planes, three in Palmill near Cabo San Lucas;
Thursday, February 6: moved into new office downtown in Chicago; buried in boxes;
Saturday, February 8: threw a party to celebrate marriage; Jack and Sally Foster,Vic and Joanne Trautwein, and Bob andLaura Schuldt among survivors;
Sunday, February 9: felt pretty good considering;
Tuesday, February 11: unearthed Alumni Magazine notes file; am trying to make February 15 deadline (without the assistance of old faithful Blanche, former secretary, who knows all the tricks about putting this epistle together).
Interspersed with these activities are fits of trying to put my income tax information together to see who won. If time keeps slipping by as quickly as the past few months, it won't be long before the revenoo'ers will be knocking at my door.
Small world item: in preparation for the aforementioned operation, I was rolled into the prep room of Northwestern Memorial Hospital in Chicago to receive anesthesia. I was a little dopey, and all the staff looked the same in that hospitalgreen garb. The anesthesiologist came up and started the procedure, inserting IVs and needles in my veins. While doing so he said that he read my Alumni Magazine column regularly. I didn't know I was syndicated in a medical journal. Actually, I'm not; inside that hospital-green outfit was Larry Wilson. I'm afraid I wasn't in a position to remember much of our conversation. Larry has been at Northwestern Hospital for more than 20 years and is a neighbor of the Trautweins in Evanston. I must say that I had excellent care!
Towards the end of January I phoned Don "Dimp" Wagner, who I thought might liven things up for me. He did, but unfortunately my transcribing ability was no match for Dimp. Don hasn't changed. After Tuck School Don entered the insurance business where, by his own admission, for years he really did not look forward to getting up and going to the office. His brother persuaded him to join his start up company named the Grabber Company (Dimp must have had the inspiration for the name). Having held every job in the place from sweeper on up, Don is now vice president and regional sales manager. The company is in construction fasteners, tools, and accessories business. They are passing $50 million in sales with 22 branches. Don describes it as an exciting and exhilarating experience. Somewhere along the line Don got married at 40 years of age to Ann, a lass from Cornwall, England.
Somewhere in my notes it says that this occurred after Dimp was evicted from the University Club in Buffalo after 10 years of debauchery there. Don and Ann have no children, but they do have a nice dog.
Don says that his muscles don't work anymore but that his mouth works better than ever. The Wagners live in an adult country club development community in Annapolis where Don's main activity is trying to keep the residents amused. The muscles may not be working, but Don and Ann skied in Europe last year, and Don can be seen occasionally with the accoutrements of golf, tennis, and racquetball.
Countdown to reunion is four months and one day from this writing, and it will be six weeks or less from the time you read this. Hope to see you in Hanover. If I get ambitious between now and then, I'll edit the movies I have from three of our reunions. The prize will go to the classmate who appears on the screen with the most spouses.
222 East Chestnut Street Chicago, IL 60611
195235TH REUNIONJUNE 9-11
