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How does one sum-up
this 50-year-old bonding which began when we both were at
the cross-roads of our lives? We each took the path the
other could have gone down as easily. We were each
other's selves. Enthusiasm! Passion! The
second face of Ann that the pictures seldom arrest. Animated
Ann, the other Ann that pervaded all she did, thought and
felt. Enthusiasm for the view from her deck toward sunsets
and Diamond Head, for cats and charming children, for good
food (often made by her hand) and the company of friends
around her board, for friends of long-standing or just met,
and most of all for her family -- brother Bob, sister Dolly,
nephew Bob and neice Mary. We came to know all these good
Wisconsin people through her passion for them. Passion
against the powerful who would restrict, undermine, or
destroy our world: Vietnamese generals, two men from
California in high places, that one from Texas, and those
with deep pockets and shallow hearts. Only an hour with
soft-spoken Garrison Keillor "down Woebegon-Way" (not too
far from Mindoro, across the river) would soothe her fervor
against these unyielding men. Ann, the passionate public
person. Something's missing, only hinted at. The Ann I knew
best, whom I most miss is/was a more private, intimate
friend. We met on the Terrace at University of Wisconsin,
Madison, "broke bread" at dinner tables in Connecticut on
the Atlantic and Hawaii Mid-Pacific, talked on the phone
when letters no longer satisfied. But the best moments were
"girl friend" talks on her bed in Madison, in Connecticut
(one long, several short visits) or in Hawaii. We talked,
compared "life notes", laughed, told stories, revealed and
at times concealed our deeper selves. How does one sum-up
this 50-year-old bonding which began when we both were at
the cross-roads of our lives? We each took the path the
other could have gone down as easily. We were each other's
selves. That Ann is gone, can no longer call, I can no
longer visit and whose voice I'll no longer hear -- except
in my locked memory. Mary Curtin
I am an old friend of Ann's from graduate school days in
Wisconsin. When I look at Ann's pictures and read her obit I
too see the Grande Dame, which she was -- poised,
principled, a public leader. That Ann lives again in the
memory of a great night in a New York hotel room, the night
of her installation as president of her professional
education association. Bill and I are drinking wine or beer,
Ann perhaps something more relaxing. She falls into a high
back chair fit for a queen, takes off her shoes, loosens her
belt and describes Maxine Greene's dress (an ex-president's)
and reports the current gossip from Columbia College of
Education. Her night to shine. She smiles not as smugly as
one of her beloved Siamese but with satisfaction and
enthusiasm. Now she's in position to promote on a national
scale what she most believes in -- public, free, open
education for all.
mecurt@attglobal.net