Why Small Schools Are Important
When I learned last week that my fraternity cook, Sherry Hilsabeck, had died, I decided to join Leslie and Brandon Peacock ’04 in Crawfordsville to pay my respects to her family.
It was one of those moments I’m thankful to have pushed excuses aside and made an appearance.
It was a typical visitation—friends mingling about, sharing stories, waiting their turn to speak to family. The funeral parlor had a fireplace with a mantle displaying family photos, not unlike you’d find in any house. But beneath these frames were Phi Psi composite photos from all 14 years Sherry served as our cook. Among her grandchildren's artwork were the thumbnail photos of young men their grandmother had fed daily with biscuits and gravy or other “volume food.”
We greeted her husband, Bud, who during my time at Wabash had made a daily visit to our house to check in on Sherry, but also the guys. He and Sherry knew our parents, attended football games, celebrated Monon Bell victories and initiations.
"She really loved you guys, you know that?” Bud said. “She loved working at the house and at Wabash. She was really proud of you, you know."
During 14 years with more than 20 kids per pledge class, Sherry had an impact in shaping more than 300 alumni. There are few who can participate so closely in college AND fraternity events AND know the men on a deeply personal level.
In a small college, every member of the community becomes a teacher.
Leslie handed Bud a framed photograph we found after hearing the news of Sherry’s passing. It showed our senior class in front of the fraternity fireplace when Sherry decided to serve a steak dinner and roast the graduating seniors with stories. We were the first freshman class she knew. That was her fourth year, too, and should have been her Wabash graduation, but she decided to stay on for another decade.
Bud placed the picture on the mantle next to a family portrait of their three kids.
I was reminded of yet another reason why small schools are important.
— MARK SHREVE ’04 Indianapolis, IN
And yet another reason why WM readers who took our survey ranked In Memory and Class Notes among the essential sections of the magazine. In a small community we mean more to one another than we realize.
Mark’s words bring that home here, even as he and Smallbox Creative helped guide our survey and efforts to redesign the magazine.
Thanks, Mark.
—The editors
Cherish Their Memory
I read the Winter edition of WM with mixed emotions. Apart from enjoying all the fascinating articles, I was saddened to read about the passing of so many alumni whom I knew and remembered well. Fred Massena ’49! Charlie Lytle ’53! Pete Schma ’53! Paul Tippett ’53! Wade Fredrick ’54! Vince Grogg ’55! There was a familiar name on page after page of the Memory section.
I could tell you stories about each one of them when they were in their late teens or early 20s and my husband and I were their mentors and chaperones.
I find it hard to believe that they are gone when I’m still around. But I cherish their memory.
— JEAN WILLIAMS H’53 Crawfordsville, IN
Inflight Entertainment
Like many people who love to read, I keep a folder of reading material for long, uninterrupted stretches of time. The five-hour flight I'm on today from Cleveland to San Francisco was such an opportunity. WM was much more than a diversion. It was a highly valued companion within the first 10 minutes of the trip and for hours afterward.
Joe Wilkins (A Man’s Life, “Oregon Trail”) and David Krohne (“Remember Esetuk”) are excellent bookends for this edition. Jake Eagan's story [about students assisting Half-Way Home addiction treatment center] reminds every alumnus of our own College-community connections, which for some were powerful and even life-changing.
As usual, the magazine strikes a fine balance between Wabash student life, faculty activities, sports, alumni contributions, and—one of my favorites—Voices. Yes, I could hear and relate to Tom Campbell's pain, search for familiarity, and sense of peace after discovering a constant—the stars—at a tumultuous point in his life.
Finally, imagine a series of stories about Wabash men and brewpubs!
Great human interest and most certainly a salute to several alumni combining passion and entrepreneurship.
Well done.
— JOHN KEREZY ’77 Broadview Heights, OH
“The Love That Stays”
In our survey in January, we asked readers: What does WM mean to you?
Among the many responses was this— perhaps the most intriguing:
The Welsh word “hiraeth,” which cannot be translated. The magazine takes me back to one of the richest times of my life.
— JIM THOMAS ’52 Penobscot, ME
Diolch yn fawr, Iago.
There is no exact translation, but scholars say perhaps the Portuguese word “saudade” comes closest: “the love that stays” after someone, or something, has gone away. Close?
Da boch chi,
—SC
The Poetry in Nature
I treat WM’s arrival much the same as I do the monthly editions of Alaska magazine and National Geographic. I put them aside until the quiet of the weekend when I can read them from cover to cover.
As usual, I enjoyed WM, but there were a few items in this issue that particularly caught my attention.
First was my own photograph in the Class Notes. Not a bad smile from an old guy.
The others were the picture of the “Bluebell Valley” and the accompanying story by Beth Swift, as well as “Remember Esetuk” by David Krohne. I enjoyed David’s article because I have had the privilege to travel to Alaska yearly for the past couple of decades and have a sense of the quiet and beauty that he described.
Those three things are, however, related.
When I saw the picture of the bluebells my thoughts immediately went to the little book I have that was written by Torkel Korling and Bob Petty, my Wabash mentor. The book resides on a shelf just above where my fingers are plucking away on the computer. I still pull it down every once in awhile to read Bob’s words.
Beth asked a question at the end of her article: “Was Petty a biologist with poetry in him, or a poet who studied biology?”
It is definitely the latter. If you do a Google search for scientific contributions of Bob Petty, the number of hits will be small. If, however, you look back at WM and its predecessors over the years, you will find a number of issues where his words were reproduced or his influence on Wabash men was described. His legacy goes on and on long after his passing, and it is because of his skill with words describing the beauty that surrounded him in the middle of the cornfields of central Indiana.
As I near the end of my career, his influence continues. I have been fortunate to have my name on a large number of scientific articles, but I am sure that few will be cited after I hang it up.
What might be a legacy, however, will be the organization I am developing to conserve native orchids around the world. If that effort is successful, it will be tied to the passion Bob Petty shared with me more than 50 years ago.
There is poetry in nature, and we need to make sure nature is conserved to stimulate future generations. In the end, Wabash helps with all of this by having great teachers who have passion and shape the lives of their students.
— DENNIS WHIGHAM ’66 Smithsonian Environmental Research Center Edgewater, MD