Barbara Kahn (Tepper)

Dave, I loved your mom's story! What a treasure and thanks for posting it. You have such a talented family. I recommend "A Paper Son" by Jason Bucholz. It has stayed with me since I read it and that's a rare gift your son has, to hold the reader's interest so completely.

Jeff Daum

Greetings from deep in Uganda.  We have been having a great educational, cultural and visually exciting trip in mid and South Africa.  Currently on gorilla treks in the Bwindi Impenetrable National Forest-  one of the remaining 'homes' of the last SilverBack gorillas.  This stunning specimen is relaxing after bringing his family together for foraging.

His wife with one of their many children.

And another of the young mountain gorillas.

If you would like to see some more, please visit my Instagram site https://www.instagram.com/jwdphotog/

Cheers,

Jeff

Ann Shepard (Rueve)

A late post, Esther Price is still around and great as ever. A patient just delivered a pound to the clinic where I volunteer. We usually receive several, much to the health conscious nurses’ dismay, during the holidays.  

Philip Spiess

David:  I can see why your mother graduated at the age of sixteen -- this is pretty impressive writing for most ages, let alone sixteen.  Did she do any special or significant writing later in life?

Okay, Jeff, you've got me on this one:  If these gorillas (and your photographs are lovely) are in the "Bwindi Impenetrable National Forest," how did you get into it?  (Yeah, yeah; I suppose you're going to tell me you're "InDaumitable"!)

On other notes:  I guess "Esther Price Candies" are still good at any Price!

Jeff Daum

Thanks Phil.  Wishful thinking that we are InDaumitable (however our superb local guide did say he considered me 'pure 100% Silverback' ), but probably not the case. Perhaps we were able to 'penitrate' because we donated to saving the gorillas and gave meds to the Biwindi Hospital, or, the fact that we purchased the expensive (non-refundable) entry passes almost 18 months in advance.  At any rate it truly has been an amazing experience.  A few additional pics have gone up during our brief success of getting on the internet at the link in my post #3651.

Philip Spiess

Dale Gieringer:  As I have been recently cataloguing my library (a task which, I fear, will go on well beyond my eventual demise), I came across a short story by Guillaume Apollinaire (in his The Poet Assassinated and Other Stories, 1916), entitled "The Departure of the Shadow," in which he states that Asch ("fire") in Hebrew leads to Aschen in German ("ashes," i.e., "ashes of the dead").  The narrator claims that "hashish" derives from these words, and, as we know historically, "assassin," in turn, derives from "hashish" (cf. the legends of "the Old Man of the Mountain," from The Arabian Nights and other sources, and their relation to the Krak des Chevaliers in Syria, perhaps the greatest of the Crusade castles).

I've mentioned to you before a book in my library, edited by Andrew C. Kimmens, Tales of Hashish:  A Literary Look at the Hashish Experience (1977), of which perhaps the most interesting section is "Le Club des Hachichins -- The Hashish-Eaters Club."  It includes literary pieces by the French writers Gautier, Baudelaire, and Nerval on their hashish experiences (Louisa May Alcott also wrote such a piece).  The book also includes Bayard Taylor's article "A Slight Experience of Hasheesh" (1855); Taylor, who was the United States ambassador to Russia and then to Prussia, was also the translator of Goethe's Faust into English (a version still published).  His Middle Eastern travels (and his "hasheesh" experiences) are captured in the lithograph of him in Arab dress on the cover of the Kimmens book I mention above, and also in a far more impressive oil painting of him in similar garb in the National Gallery of Art here in Washington.  I recently visited his Victorian home, "Cedarcroft," in Kennett Square, Pennsylvania (mushroom capital of North America).

I apologize for not having sent off to you the English Bloomsbury Group writer Lytton Strachey's poem, "The Haschish" (1906-1908); I will get it into the mail tomorrow.  Personally I find it a bit too florid -- not at all in Strachey's usually detached and ironic mode (cf. Eminent Victorians, 1918) -- way too Victorian (almost Romantic) -- but he does (apropos of the late period of the English Decadence) make passing reference to gay and lesbian attraction.

Dale Gieringer

Phil -   Not to delve too deeply into the weed(s),  there's a lot of misinformation about the origins of the word hashish.  According to the Arabic scholar Franz Rosenthal, hashish  was an Arabic word traditionally denoting any kind of herbs, weeds, or grass used for fodder (all of these curiously being English nicknames for marijuana).  There is an apocryphal story,  based on a misreading of the journal of Marco Polo and popularized by  Federal Bureau of Narcotics chief Harry Anslinger in his book, "Marihuana, Assassin of Youth,"   that the violent Islamic sect known as assassins took their name from hashish, use of which inspired them to murderous behavior.    In fact, Marco Polo never mentioned hashish and it's uncertain where the word assassin derives from.   The 19th century writer  Silvestre de Sacy first related it to hashish , but other scholars have traced it to Hasan, the name of the sect's founder.  

Dale

Philip Spiess

Well, Dale, your explanation of "hashish" as meaning, in the Arabic, "herbs," "weeds," "grass," etc., certainly makes sense, particularly if, as an historian, I apply "Okham's (Occam's) Razor" to the matter.  And any study of Harry Anslinger will show he was a fanatic -- perhaps a lunatic -- on his chosen subject, designed to bring him into federal prominence and power.

I, too, have seen the term "hashish" connected to Hasan, more correctly Hassan-e Sabbah, the Mawla of Alamut, who apparently is the person known as "the Old Man of the Mountain" in the Arabian Nights and in Templar lore (cf. Charles E. Nowell's article, "The Old Man of the Mountain," in Speculum:  A Journal of Medieval Studies, XXII:4, October, 1947).  As you know, these things get conjoined and contrasted and reconfigured as history pursues its mad and erratic way, adding this and that, re-telling some myth yet again, conspiring to add new dimensions to an old tale -- I fully believe that Oliver Wendell Holmes' poem, "The Old Man of the Sea:  A Nightmare Dream by Daylight," is drawn from stories about the "Old Man of the Mountain." Could all of this possibly be construed as "fake news"?

Judy Holtzer (Knopf)

Dear Ann! re: Esther Price candies. I was shocked, shocked I say, that the picture you posted of a box of Esther Price candy made me salivate strongly. They appear not to have changed its look in decades. Now I'm plotting how to get a box here without it melting.... and I'm still overweight!  I simply must control myself!!! nononono

Paul Simons

Congrats to all who are now or who were at the time living life to the fullest - including Mrs. Buchholz whom I think I remember driving us to The Torquays practices at your Dad's church Dave. Great photos Jeff. About the "Hashish" topic - I'll never forget "Hash Brownies". But not the rich chocolate dessert that had side effects. No. It was a group of women who claimed to be members of a Brownies troup - remember, younger sisters of Girl Scouts - who set up a rival stand across the street from the real Brownies' lemonade stand. They sold plates of corned beef hash and hash brown potatoes. They called themselves "The Hash Brownies" - they wore extra-large Brownies uniforms - but they looked considerably older than the lemondade stand girls - in fact considerably older than the Girl Scouts. They had to be in their late 30's or early 40's, had tattoos, and showed up on Harleys. The corned beef hash was pretty good, and most of us would also buy a lemonade from across the street as well, so all in all it was good for all concerned.

Steven Levinson

Phil:  Speaking of Lytton Strachey and his superb Eminent Victorians, I hope you've seen the wonderful 1995 film Carrington, written and directed by Christopher Hampton, which undertakes to chronicle the fascinating, ideosynchratic, and very sad relationship between the painter Dora Carrington (performed magnificently by Emma Thompson) and Strachey (performed magnificently by Jonathan Pryce).  The film depicts, accurately I assume, Carrington as a most inscrutable and tragic figure and Strachey as, well . . . Strachey, as to whiom "colorful" would be a grossly inadequate characterization.  Carrington is really a must see.

Jeff Daum

Thanks Paul.  I have been putting a couple more up as we have internet access per my link in my post #3651.

Philip Spiess

Steve:  No, I was not aware of the movie Carrington, and I appreciate your bringing it to my attention; I shall certainly look it up.  (My wife is quite a dab at finding such things on the various TV stations and/or the Internet.)  You probably know my favorite Strachey anecdote:  In the year 1916, Lytton was called up for conscription by the British government during World War I.  A true conscientious objector to this particular war, and not to war as such, he was seeking to claim exemption from war-time activities.  Faced with the Tribunal's standard question, "What would you do if you saw a German soldier trying to rape your sister?" he replied (double entendre no doubt intended), "I should attempt to come" -- [significant pause] -- "between them."  This surely stands as a witty companion to Oscar Wilde's comment to the lady who asked him, "Mr. Wilde, what do you believe is the real difference between men and women?" -- and Wilde responded, "Madam, I can't conceive!" 

Steven Levinson

Phil:  as it happens, that very event is depicted in Carrington in a way that I suspect you would love.

Philip Spiess

Well, here I am, back from my wife's and my annual sojourn for a week of rest and relaxation at Black Walnut Point, located at the southern tip of Tilghman Island in the Chesapeake Bay, Maryland.  I want to tell you about it, because the experience is so different from our regular life in Washington, D. C.

The Point is bordered on the north by a wild and dense nature preserve protected by the state, on the west and south by the waters of the Chesapeake Bay, and on the east by the waters forming the mouth of the Choptank River where it flows into the Bay. Thus the modest cabin which we annually rent, with its screened-in porch, is surrounded by the sound of constantly lapping waters, a soothing sound at all times, but particularly at night as we drift off to sleep.  In the daytime, the mostly brisk breezes off these waters, crossing and re-crossing the island in varying directions, cool us as we dawdle on the cabin porch in rocking chairs, reading our separate books (novels, history, mystery -- I do not bring my computer) and usually sipping wine.  We also watch the Monarch butterflies -- many of them in the flowers surrounding our porch -- which are getting ready for their autumnal migration south.

To say we are off the grid would be inaccurate; more accurate would be to say that we are off the grind.  Our kitchen renovation, with all its dislocations, has been completed finally and awaits this semi-gourmet cook's return; our son's dog (ours, now) is lodged for the week at his "Bed & Biscuit" one block over from our house.  Most significantly, although there is a television in the cabin, it does not receive the channels we watch, and so, although my wife can pick up a channel we do watch on her Smartphone, we cannot receive a picture, only the sound.  So we exist news-wise in a 1930s time warp, perched around the phone and listening as if to one of FDR's "Fireside Chats."  But even with the news, Washington is worlds and thoughts away.

Black Walnut Point Inn is a bed and breakfast, so, on rising, we have a meal ready for us in the main house; the other meals we cook in our cabin and consume in the breezes on the porch.  Occasionally we'll take a meal at one of the seafood restaurants down the road at Knapps Narrows (if the drawbridge is down) or, further afield, at St. Michaels on the bay, consuming crab, oysters (raw), scallops, or rockfish -- always washed down with a Bloody Mary or two.  Our designated final night's meal is a thick handcut ribeye from the island's General Store, cooked on the grill poolside at Black Walnut Point.

I won't prolong this paean to placidness; I'll just add that the first night in, after coming through rain and storm from the edges of Hurricane Florence, we sat quietly on the little porch with strenuous but exhilarating winds wafting over us from the waters surrounding us and we just mellowed out, physically and emotionally, and, yes, I had a vodka and tonic in hand.

Barbara Kahn (Tepper)

Sounds like heaven that I would enjoy too even though we are alcohol free here. It's just always been that way so not missing anything.

Dale Gieringer

   Dear classmates -   Without getting into politics, the ongoing Supreme Court spectacle in Washington leads me to bring up the following question.  When we were in high school,  I don't recall ever hearing about attempted rape or sexual assault by anyone at WHHS, do you?   I did once hear a rumor about some Withrow football players, but that was third-hand and I never knew them.    And while I drank a lot of beer and attended a lot parties at WHHS, I can recall only one instance of a  classmate getting stumbling drunk at a party I attended.  To me, the point of drinking was always for pleasure, not to get drunk.   But regardless of drunkenness, the sexual assaults of which Brett Kavanaugh is accused would have seemed totally outrageous to me at WHHS (or at college for that matter).  Do other  classmates have similar recollections, or was my experience atypical?    - Dale Gieringer

Becky Payne (Shockley)

Thanks, Dale. I didn't drink in those days, but I certainly never saw or heard anything remotely like the stuff described in the Kavanaugh hearings.

Sharon Baum (Covitz)

Dale, I was thinking the same thing too.  I didnt drink in high school.  College was another matter as Cincinnatus meetings ended with beer (3.2% in those days) and most of the guys would get really smashed. I don't recall anyone saying anything about being groped, attacked etc.  However, I can see this type of incident happening, but not at Walnut Hills.

Richard Murdock

Dale:

I was thinking the same thing.  During my high school years, I do not remember even hearing one rumor about behavior such as what has been described recently on TV.   If I had heard anything like that, I would have been shocked and most likely would have found it nearly impossible to believe as the behavior would have been seemed to me to be so far out of the social norms for that time and place. 

I can add that during my business career spanning over 35 years I only encountered one such incident, when an officer of the company tried to hug and kiss a subordinate (who reported to me) at an offsite meeting.  When she told me about the incident - which amazingly enough was witnessed by another guy in the room at the same time, I reported it immediately to the Division CEO  and as best I can recall within 3 or 4 days the offending guy was terminated.

Barbara Kahn (Tepper)

I didn't experience anything like what's been described in the Kavanaugh hearings. I don't know if that was a sign of the times or what. His story was in the 80s and by then I was married and a mother of 2 so who knows how life changed in decades. 

There were parties and some were big where people charged admission. I only bring this up because there was a local news story recently where some people got in trouble for this and I do remember it happened but I don't think I was there, just heard about it. 

Margery Erhardt (Schrader)

I also never heard about anything like this in HS. I know there was some drinking of course but it was only a glass. I do remember some rumors going around about two teachers which I believe unfortunately turned out to be true though this did not include alcohol. College was another story as fraternities had parties with all the alcohol and the “punch”! I didn’t drink at all then and when on dates I would drink only a Coke or Pepsi straight out of the vending machine. A glass of wine has become my evening enjoyment (martini on the weekend) and that commenced when I lived for several years in Europe – no better place to start!

Judy Holtzer (Knopf)

I am somewhat hesitant about telling this story since it is not really mine to tell, but happened to a classmate at WHHS. While a far cry from the blatant rape attempts from the 1980s of the Kavanaugh hearings, I was profoundly shocked in the early 60s when I heard that one of our teachers "playfully" deposited ice cubes down the front of a friend's dress at a school party he was chaperoning. I was not at the party. No, I cannot remember if she reported him, or even if she told her parents.

Would this even be considered a sexual attack? It wasn't harrassment, rather just incredibly poor judjment on the part of the teacher. If the consensus is that this was a sexual attack, "innocent playfulness" notwithstanding, then did stuff like this happen to others during our days at WHHS? Maybe he pulled a similar stunt on someone else?  

Richard Montague

Unlike most classmates I seemed always to be in trouble. Several of us got busted for joy riding and had to wash police cars on the weekends. Then one morning a couple of us were sitting in the parking lot and remembered we still had a jug of beer in the trunk. We removed it and got caught taking a couple of swigs.Another trip to the office and 3 days off during the week, punish me ! I used to skip class so I was overjoyed.

We did have an incident where the police came to school because one student was selling pornography.They called a bunch of us into the office and questioned us. The only involvement T. T. and I had was taking a wolf deck off one student that was charging students to look at the pictures. I shoved him into a bathroom stall and T.T. ran off with the deck. Later we tossed them in the trash. 

After getting out of the Air Force jobs were scarce and I had no idea what I wanted to do so put in for the State Highway Patroll. Passed all the tests, something like 1600 applicants and I was in the top 5. They sent a gentleman out to my house to interview me. Things were going OK then he said I might want my wife to leave the room ? I said I had never done anything to be ashamed of upon which he said what about the PORNOGRAPHY RING you were involved in  ?  Just goes to show how easy it was to drag up crap about the Judge ---------

Walnut Hills was a great school but not without things that also happened at other places. There was the White Jeans incident anyone remember it ?

Philip Spiess

Okay, I was not going to respond to this particular thread, as I had said what I wanted to say on our alternate-political e-mail site.  However, more is coming out here, particularly from Richard (and thank you for that, Richard, for setting the record straight), than I had imagined went on at the time.

Yes, Dale Gieringer and Jeff Rosen and I drank beer off campus (usually at Rosen's house, and it may only have been in our college years), and yes, we were involved in what we considered "innocent" pranks at school, but we were aware of nothing of the status of the Judge's carryings-on.  He was at a Jesuit school, for Heaven's sake (I say that derisively):  where were the priests -- the faculty -- who were supposed to be these guys' moral mentors?  Apparently, they didn't even monitor what was printed in the Yearbook (or went along with it knowingly).

Back to Walnut Hills.  Yeah, they were different times (20 years apart), but I know that most of us would have been very embarrassed, if not downright humiliated (and punished), if any such stories had surfaced and our parents -- and teachers! -- had heard about them.  Even in college -- in a fraternity, as I was (president)! -- such things would not have been tolerated.  Yes, they may have gone on individually, off campus or in the woods surrounding the campus, or (God forbid! -- tacky!) in cars, but at least not in the fraternity house -- you never brought them back to the fraternity!  (Well, except for the occasional puking.  I myself found that the safest place to drink on campus was the College Chapel; nobody ever went there).

Judy:  What you describe about the teacher and the ice would not have been tolerated in the Middle School I taught at, 2005-2013; said teacher would have been out of there so fast!  I'm told that in the 1980s in Cleveland some teachers at school dances would make sure dance partners were at least 6 inches apart; in the early 2000s when I taught, at school dances we had to tell students (and this was Middle School) to stop "grinding," or they were "out of there."

Margery:  You've put it aptly! -- a glass of wine with a meal is eminently European (and assists the digestion).  [P. S.:  There was no "punch" at our fraternity / sorotity soirees -- beer was the beverage of choice -- though I had my first "7 and 7" (Seagram's 7 and 7-Up) my freshman year.]

Um, Richard:  What was the "White Jeans" incident?  (Or should I ask?)