Letters

Stray Thoughts: Echos from A Different Era

Teddy Roosevelt speaking at Pomona College

Almost everyone who comes to Pomona College learns that Theodore Roosevelt gave a speech in front of Pearsons Hall in 1903, the only visit by a sitting president in Pomona history.

In one of the stories in this issue of Pomona College Magazine, there’s an allusion to a theme in some of Roosevelt’s more famous addresses. Though the exact phrase “dare mighty things” comes from his 1899 speech “The Strenuous Life,” the better-known speech is “The Man in the Arena,” itself part of a longer address called “Citizenship in a Republic” that Roosevelt delivered in Paris in 1910.

A popular figure at the time, Roosevelt is more controversial today for certain imperialist and racist views. And the famous speech is mostly spoiled for me anyway by Richard Nixon’s use of it as he resigned the presidency in disgrace in 1974, still believing he was being persecuted.

What draws me in isn’t the “It is not the critic who counts,” part, though granted, that might have something to do with my background in journalism. Instead, it’s the words at the end about being willing to fail in striving for a worthy cause. Like poet Robert Browning’s idea that one’s reach should exceed one’s grasp, it encourages aiming for more than we might be able to achieve, along with accepting that we may be judged for it.

That willingness to try, not blindly but with a clear understanding that they might not be able to do the thing they set out to do, is at the heart of several of the stories in this issue. Jessie Berman Boatright ’98 and Laila Bernstein ’04 work intently in Boston with their teams in the Mayor’s Office of Housing to try to end homelessness, even though it often seems like every time 100 people find homes, another 100 appear in the streets. Laura Kerber ’06 works at NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory, where virtually every shot is a long shot. And Zach Landman ’08 and his wife Geri, both physicians, are bringing to bear all their training, talents and connections to try to find a cure for their daughter Lucy’s rare genetic disorder. Even if they can’t, they’ve launched a foundation to try to discover therapies that might help cure other children with single-gene disorders.

There’s another story in this issue that reflects a different type of persistence and conviction. It’s an essay by physician Atsuko Koyama ’96 about why she has chosen to be an abortion provider. I ask you to hear her out to better understand why her professional and personal experiences have led to her decision, and to respect her readiness to explain it.

These Pomona alumni exhibit a boldness some educators believe is diminishing among high-achieving students: the willingness to fail. When getting a B feels like failure for students trying to gain admission to highly selective colleges or graduate schools, it can lead to not attempting courses or projects beyond ones they’re confident they’ll master. When a student at another college once told me she had failed an engineering course in statics, I remember being surprised she didn’t change her major. She took the course again, passed it, won a six-figure federal grant for her technology startup and completed her degree.

So here’s to trying, and to trying again.

Letter Box

Kudos to the Pandemic Graduates

I came home from summer vacation to find the Summer 2022 edition of PCM had arrived. What a joyful read! I love the beautiful graduation photos for all three classes. They fought hard these past few years and I’m overjoyed to see them celebrating together.

I admire the members of the classes of 2020, 2021 and 2022 so much. While they couldn’t spend their years together the way anyone would have imagined, they’re linked in a new and different way. I think they’ll find power in remembering what they’ve overcome as individuals, and together.

Recent graduates make the traditional exit through the College Gates during the May 2022 delayed Commencement celebrations for the pandemic Classes of 2020 and 2021.

Recent graduates make the traditional exit through the College Gates during the May 2022 delayed Commencement celebrations for the pandemic Classes of 2020 and 2021.

I also loved the “Heart to Heart” article with my classmate Roxanne Ruzicka Maas ’94 and Elisa Louizos ’96. They didn’t just survive something frightening. They chose to renew their friendship, and renew their commitments to living with love and meaning.

I always feel a little restless in the fall, like I should be starting a new academic pursuit. So I’ll take this renewal and inspiration with me as I head back to work, and take my daughter Bailey to first grade.

—Christina Caldwell Lobo ’94
Ballwin, Missouri


Remembering William Irwin Thompson ’62

I noted with sadness the passing of William Irwin Thompson ’62 (Spring 2022). Thompson was one of the formative writers of my early 20s. I read two of his books—At the Edge of History and Passages About Earth—before I even knew I would be transferring to Pomona, which I eventually did in fall 1975. Those books offered a heady brew of history, philosophy, religion, literature, art and anthropology, all in the service of nudging what Thompson saw as a nascent planetary culture into being.

For someone coming of age in the early ’70s, they offered a vision of culture more grounded and hopeful than the unhinged and rapacious one we were instead coming to inhabit. I have continued to collect and read his writings over the years, and while my older, more pessimistic self may not have found them quite so intoxicating, they still provoked and stimulated as well as introduced me to writers (Francisco Varela, James Lovelock, Lynn Margulis, Evan Thompson) and ideas (embodied minds, Gaia hypothesis) that at the time were outside the mainstream.

After I learned of Thompson’s death, I ran across an online interview he gave in 2008. This passage caught my eye: “And I didn’t like high school, I had A’s and F’s. So I couldn’t get into UCLA or a conventional school, but I was able to talk my way into Pomona as a maverick. The professor said, ‘We’re allowed one oddball a year. I will make you my oddball for this year if you go back and finish your high school diploma.’” I thought, Hey, that’s me! I too had a checkered high school record and a vexed relation with educational institutions generally. My first semester, Chemistry Professor Wayne Steinmetz told me I was the very last applicant the admissions committee decided on, hinting that his doubts persisted. But I stayed on despite having my own doubts about Pomona that first year. And though my life has followed a very different path than Thompson’s, I’m grateful Pomona saw fit to take a chance on us both and that it was the kind of place that offered us the means to find our footing and flourish in our own distinct ways.

—Rick Penticoff ’78
Moscow, Idaho

Two books by William Irwin Thompson: At the Edge of History; and Passages About Earth: An Exploration of the New Planetary Culture

P.S. Your notice makes it appear as if At the Edge of History and Passages About Earth are one book. They are two—Edge was published in 1971; Passages in 1974.


Pomona’s Contributions to Diplomacy

I was thrilled to read in the summer issue “Partners in Prague” by Doug Morrow ’01 and Erik Black ’95, relating their efforts in Prague and elsewhere to “share and strengthen” our democratic values there. It is heartening to read that these two Pomona grads recognize the importance of constant vigilance in this respect. Even in our own country, we need reminders of the significance of these values. Thank you for publishing their story.

—Jane Barnes ’58
Julian, California

The Exponential Power of Mentorship

As we set out to write about pairs of Pomona people whose lives or work are intertwined in this issue of PCM, we weren’t thinking so much about mentorship. Yet it emerged as a subtext, and not only in cases of an older person guiding a younger one. Sometimes, the roles seemed almost interchangeable, and it struck me that mentoring is a very natural outcome of the Pomona experience.

One of the best examples of Pomona’s mentoring efforts for the community returned to campus this summer for the first time since 2019. The Draper Center’s Pomona College Academy for Youth Success (PAYS)—a multi-year program to prepare area high school students from low-income or traditionally underrepresented backgrounds to enter selective colleges and universities—was back in classrooms and residence halls for the core four-week summer experience after two years online because of the pandemic.

Pomona students serving as PAYS teaching assistants include, from left: Gerardo Hurtado '24, Jose Sanchez Mara '24 and Katherine Rivas '25, who is a PAYS alumna. David Diaz, in green, is a PAYS alumnus attending Swarthmore whose younger brother is now in PAYS.

Pomona students serving as PAYS teaching assistants include, from left: Gerardo Hurtado ’24, Jose Sanchez Mara ’24 and Katherine Rivas ’25, who is a PAYS alumna. David Diaz, in green, is a PAYS alumnus attending Swarthmore whose younger brother is now in PAYS.

What unfolds during those campus stays can be astounding. As Biology Professor Sara Olson mentioned while introducing Nobel Prize winner Jennifer Doudna ’85 at the Class of 2022 Commencement in May, the revolutionary gene-editing technology Doudna and Emmanuelle Charpentier pioneered is something even teenagers can learn.

“CRISPR is fast, easy and accessible, allowing even our high school PAYS students to use and understand this technology,” says Olson, who dedicates part of her summers to the program.

The first year Olson incorporated CRISPR was 2019, the last time PAYS was on campus. Students designed edits for a C. elegans worm eggshell project, with each student assigned one gene to delete to explore whether it was important in forming the eggshell. The students designed and created DNA plasmids that would then be injected into the worm to carry out the CRISPR edit. They nearly made it through the plasmid construction stage but didn’t quite make it to the injection stage before the summer session ended.

In 2020, the necessity of being online limited the scope of the work, but students worked to design a theoretical CRISPR-based treatment for COVID-19. “They ended up narrowing in on the same target that some antiviral therapies are now targeting, without even knowing anything about it beforehand,” Olson says.

Among those who worked on that 2020 project was Khadi Diallo ’25, then a student at Ontario’s Colony High and now a rising sophomore at Pomona. She works in Olson’s lab and is a teaching assistant for this year’s PAYS program.

“It’s neat to see her come full circle and be a mentor for them,” Olson says.

It’s the Pomona way. We hope you enjoy the issue.

Letter Box

“At the Hop,” released by Danny and the Juniors in 1957.

“At the Hop,” released by Danny and the Juniors in 1957.

’At the Coop’

A popular song at the time I was at Pomona was “Let’s Go to the Hop,” which had a catchy tune and a recitation of all the current dance fads; the chorus consisted of “Let’s go to the hop,” sung five times. At Pomona of course it turned into “Let’s go to the Coop.” After 59 years, I can’t get it out of my head (“The Coop Reinvented,” Spring 2022).

—Carolyn Hunt ’63
Livermore, California


About Those Beanies

Archivist Sean Stanley (“Our Bird’s Beginnings,” Spring 2022) may have told you about blue-and-white freshman beanies, but they were green in the 1950s. See mine. Love reading the Pomona College Magazine and attending reunions. Chirp.

—Frances DuBose Johnson ’54
Newbury Park, California


Remembering Francisco Gonzalez ’75

Last year, another Pomona College classmate, Bradford Berge ’75 (Santa Fe, NM) and I were reminiscing and decided to find Francisco Gonzalez ’75 or “Frank” (as we knew him back in the day). I started with the Alumni Office but it had no record of his whereabouts. Brad and I then embarked on our own mad search dubbed Finding Frank Gonzalez.

Francisco Gonzalez

After a few weeks of online searching in December 2021, following obscure lead after obscure lead, we (mainly Brad) finally found Frank in Kansas. Frank’s wife, Yolanda Broyles-Gonzalez, is a professor at Kansas State University. On December 23, 2021, Brad and I had a long phone call with Frank. Although he was dealing with Crohn’s disease, he sounded like the same ol’ energetic, life-loving guy we met and fell in love with 51 years ago in Claremont. Frank was a product of the streets of East Los Angeles and a gregarious, kind, intelligent and musically talented force of nature. (He gave us permission to call him “Frank” because that is how we knew him at Pomona College).

Part of our obsession to find Frank was because Brad and I are musicians (with a very small “m”). When we met Frank at Pomona College, we were amazed at how he could channel music from Boyle Heights, singing Chicano songs and playing guitar with reckless abandon. I will never forget how he sang and played “Malagueñas” from his guts, almost in a trance.

In the ’70s we lost track of Frank when he left Pomona College early to pursue his music career as one of the founders of the iconic band Los Lobos. Brad and I were not aware of his connection with Los Lobos until our search a few months ago.

At the end of our call, we wished each other happy holidays and agreed to do it again “soon” as is always said at the end of a phone call but that was not to be. (Obituaries, p. 60). Pomona College is fortunate to have Francisco “Frank” Gonzalez as part of its legacy and we are blessed to have met him and rediscovered him. I would say “may he rest in peace” but knowing Frank, he’s still rockin’ and rollin’ somewhere and causing those around him to say what we said when we met him: “Who the hell is that guy?”

We extend to his wife, son and his vast universe of friends our prayers for the loss of Francisco “Frank” Gonzalez.

—Bruce L. Ishimatsu ’75
Marina del Rey, California


On the Court with Darlene Hard

I was saddened to learn of the death of professional women’s tennis player Darlene Hard ’61 (“In Memoriam,” Spring 2022).

Darlene Hard

In 1958, Darlene and I were both sophomores at Pomona. One day I was down near the campus tennis courts, hitting balls against the backstop and there she was—Darlene Hard, practicing her serve. After a bit, I got up my nerve and approached her. We engaged in a little small talk and then she smiled at me and said, “You want to hit a few balls with me?”

She stood there, bouncing the ball up and down a few times, and said, “Do you want me to hit shots you can return?” I had played on my high school tennis team and thought I could surely return any shot she could hit. I was 18 years old and felt generally invincible in all areas of life, including tennis.

She bounced the ball once and hit a forehand shot to my forehand side that cleared the net by about half an inch. The ball screamed into my side of the court and hit about six feet in front of me. Then, instead of bouncing like it should have, it literally skidded, never getting more than two or three inches off the ground. I missed it by a foot. “Do that again!” I said. She did. Same result.

At that point, we swapped a few shots that I could return and then my tennis session with Darlene Hard came to an end. I have never forgotten that wonderful encounter and how totally gracious she was the entire time. To this day, I can picture in my mind the way that ball hit and skidded a foot under my racquet as I swung mightily at nothing but air.

 —Michael R. Coghlan ’61
 South Pasadena, California


Meeting Virginia Prince

Monsieur d’Eon is a Woman: A Tale of Political Intrigue and Sexual Masquerade

I so enjoyed reading about Virginia Prince ’35 in the excellent piece by Michael Waters ’20 (“Crossing Boundaries,” Spring 2022).

In the early 1990s I interviewed Virginia Prince at a West Hollywood café for a book I wrote on the 18th-century transgender pioneer and diplomat, the Chevalière d’Eon. In some respects Virginia modeled her life on d’Eon’s. I will never forget how Virginia embodied the spirit of d’Eon, who like Virginia, lived the second half of her long life as a woman, after living 50 years as a man (see Monsieur d’Eon is a Woman: A Tale of Political Intrigue and Sexual Masquerade). As Virginia shook my hand with a hard grip, she theatrically bolted out: “So you are writing a book about the Chevalière d’Eon!?! What can you possibly tell me about her that I don’t already know?” And there began a two-hour conversation that I will never forget. Virginia was amazing: intelligent, articulate, with a rich sense of irony and a great sense of humor.

When, a decade later, I moved to Claremont as Pomona’s dean of the College, I visited her in a nursing home, after learning that she had moved back to the Claremont area.

Thanks so much for drawing our attention to this very special alumna.

Gary Kates—Gary Kates
H. Russell Smith Foundation Chair in the Social Sciences and Professor of History
Pomona College

Letterbox

‘Artifact’ Stirs Athletics Memories

The DrumAs someone who practiced the gridiron arts on Merritt Field for several years—toiling beneath the torrid San Gabriel Valley sun, stately oak tree, and watchful eye of legendary coach Roger “RC” Caron—I greatly enjoyed the “A Drum Falls Silent” piece in the Fall/Winter 2021 edition. My mother and uncle, who were taken to the bonfire rallies during the 1950s by my grandfather, former Dean of Men Shelton Beatty, confirm that they were, indeed, a “huge tradition,” if a bit haphazardly staged—one year, the inferno almost toppled onto the fieldhouse that preceded the Rains Center.

Speaking of the Rains Center, its walls and display cases are [of course] adorned with a veritable cornucopia of similarly absorbing artifacts. I recall in particular the 1984 Summer Olympics posters strategically placed around the complex, along with the panoramic photograph, across from the laundry room at the west entrance, depicting the scene at the Los Angeles Coliseum during one of those 1920s Pomona-USC football games.

I, for one, would not complain, if this “Artifact” item became a running feature, exploring a different Rains Center piece of memorabilia each issue!

—Doug Meyer ’01
Watertown, Massachusetts


Renaissance People

Reading the Fall/Winter 2021 issue of PCM, I noticed diverse, contrasting interests and pursuits of individual Sagehens.

Among the Fulbright award recipients, I was struck by physics major Adam Dvorak ’21, who planned to conduct research in Denmark studying the effects of extreme weather events. Then comes the 21st century Pomona Renaissance quality: “While in Denmark, Dvorak aims to teach violin.”

Jarrett Walker ’84 is an international expert on the vital issue of public transportation, and a “Renaissance man.” He was a math major at Pomona and has a drama, literature and humanities Ph.D. from Stanford.

I also discovered some real human gems in the obituaries. Chalmers Smith ’51 practiced law in San Jose while playing viola in the San Jose Symphony and in string quartets. Elizabeth “Betty” Kohl Hendrickson ’60, a chemist, cared full-time for her three children until they were in high school, published 20 chemistry research papers with her husband, and learned to play the hammered dulcimer at age 61. Julia “Judith” Moore ’66, Pomona magna cum laude graduate, Peace Corps volunteer, graphic designer, Stanford MBA and a vice president in marketing at Marriott, left the corporate world to focus on painting, exhibiting at galleries and a museum.

We tend to occupy ourselves with big things, big dreams, big bank accounts, great estates, statistics, information systems, huge data banks, numerous vehicles, mass production, globalization. If we can locate what is small and of genuine interest and high quality and not just what is great or popular and famous, we can give the small the attention it is due such that it flourishes, and everyone benefits.

—Alan Lindgren ’86
North Hollywood, California


Farewell to a PCM Storyteller

Agustin Gurza

Photo by RICK LOOMIS/Los Angeles Times

Agustin Gurza, whose writing appeared in PCM for more than a dozen years, died unexpectedly in January at 73. A former Los Angeles Times columnist and critic, Gurza wrote in the Times that “I can’t go anywhere without gathering stories, like lint on a coat. Stories about people helping out, moving up, fighting back.” His first piece for PCM, “El Espectador” in 2009, was about Ignacio Lutero Lopez ’31, groundbreaking founder of a Spanish-language newspaper covering Pomona Valley barrio communities. Gurza’s final PCM story, “American Crossroads,” about UCLA Professor Genevieve Carpio ’05, appeared in our last issue. PCM’s editors appreciated Gurza’s writing talents, his deep commitment to telling the stories of his subjects and his friendship from afar. We send condolences to his loved ones, including two siblings who are alumni, Piti Gurza Witherow ’73 and Roberto Gurza ’80.


1943 Alumnus Cherishes Calendars

Today I received my new calendar,
The Pomona College Engagement Calendar.
I graduated in the Class of ’43.
Pomona has sent me seventy or more.

I am guessing there were no calendars
In the war years, ’44 and ’45.
I think the development function
Was resumed in ’46.

As a fund-raising technique
It has really worked with me.
I never forget my alma mater
When I write my dates on the calendar.

I do a month-at-a-time
On one perfect page.
I can see where I am going
And know where I have been.

I have never lived in Southern
California since my college days,
But I love the recollections
Of life around the Quad.

I worked nights and weekends
In Harwood for the girls.
I ate my meals in Frary
Along with all the other boys.

Chemistry was learned with Tyson
And calculus with Jaeger.
Basic botany with Munz
Was an outstanding privilege.

It’s hard to remember all
The names, but I’ll never forget,
“Let only the eager, thoughtful
And reverent enter here.”

It’s the calendars that have
Provided the yearly stimulation
To give back and to feel
And express gratitude.

—Lewis Perry ’43
Oakland, California

Editor’s note: The Pomona College Engagement Calendar is sent out in late summer to members of our Sagehen community. Alumni, families and friends of Pomona who have given to the Annual Fund in the previous year automatically receive the calendar. The first year the calendar was published is unknown.

The Night the Trees Fell

The Night the Trees Fell

The winds roared, the lights went out and the great trees came down, one after another.

Ronald Nemo, Pomona’s longtime grounds and landscaping manager, was on the scene by 6:30 a.m. after an unnerving Friday night in January brought the worst windstorm to rip through Claremont and the region in many years.

Nemo quickly shut off water flowing near Marston Quad after the lifted roots of fallen trees burst pipes. A once-towering eucalyptus lay across College Avenue. Stover Walk was covered in a tangle of branches; Clark I had taken minor damage from a pine.

In all, Pomona lost 17 trees, with hundreds more down across the city. The native coast live oaks, Pomona’s most prevalent tree, took the most losses on campus. Notable among the fallen were five oaks dating back to the early 1900s and now gone from along Stover Walk, where for decades they helped shade graduating seniors lined up for Commencement ceremonies. (The Wash, home to Pomona’s oldest oaks, was largely unscathed.)

Nemo, his crew and outside contractors called in to help set right to work on cleanup. He was grateful that nobody was injured, as he remembers the tragedy of 1998, when a eucalyptus fell on a car on College Avenue, killing two Pomona students. Nemo notes Pomona today has an extensive tree management program, with a regular cycle of inspections.

The trees lost in the January storm amounted to a tiny fraction of the 4,000 or so on campus. But they were concentrated in familiar spots such as Marston, and the sudden change in the landscape stunned many Sagehens.

Directing the cleanup along Stover, Nemo was philosophical regarding the plants: “The trees have a lifespan,” he says, “just like everything else.”

They will find a new purpose. Some of the timber is going to sculptor and Professor of Art Michael O’Malley, who recently taught a Critical Inquiry class, Trees and Wood. He too was on campus the morning after the windstorm.

O’Malley notes that because of their age, the trees downed in the wind are a size that makes them rare. Most will be used in his Wood Sculpture course and, if possible, for a few benches for the campus. The hope, he says, is to find a way for the wood to be shared and celebrated by the community.

What can’t be used for other purposes will become mulch to feed the landscape, according to Nemo.

Replacement trees will be chosen with care, Nemo promises, with some campus plantings set for April 29, which is both Arbor Day and the first full day of Alumni Weekend 2022. Time will bring new trees and new memories.

The Night the Trees Fell

For more on the history of Pomona’s trees, see the 2014 PCM story “The Tale of the Trees”.

Image Gallery

Letterbox

Wirtz’s Inspiration Lingers

Lori Sonnier ’94 painted this scene some 25 years after taking a photo during a visit to Pitt Ranch with Professor Bill Wirtz

Lori Sonnier ’94 painted this scene some 25 years after taking a photo during a visit to Pitt Ranch with Professor Bill Wirtz.

When I picked up the Spring 2021 issue of PCM, I was sad to hear that Professor Bill Wirtz had passed away. I took several classes with him while I was at Pomona, and the field trips we took to Pitt Ranch and the Granite Mountains were some of the most memorable experiences of my academic life at Pomona. I really enjoyed Professor Wirtz’s classes and appreciated how knowledgeable he was about so many plants and animals.

After Pomona, I went on to study ecology in graduate school and work in corporate environmental management for a decade. Around 2009, when I had three sons ages 5 and under, I stopped the corporate environmental work to focus on my family. At that time, I began taking painting classes and I really enjoy landscape painting. This oil painting is called “Spring Renewal.” I painted it from a photo that I took in Spring 1992 on a field trip to Pitt Ranch with Prof. Wirtz’s class. While we were there, the hills around the ranch looked beautiful as they were covered with poppies and lupine. I snapped a bunch of photos with my camera during that trip and decided to paint from them 25 years later. It’s a nice memory of Pomona.

—Lori Sonnier ’94
Austin, Texas

The Boy and the Bobcat

bobcat

What amazing bobcat images in the recent issue of PCM by David Lonardi, your 12-year-old campus neighbor. Taking good stop-action shots of a fast-moving subject with a high-power telephoto lens is not easy, and he got it. We have a budding photographer in our midst.

—Austin Wertheimer, M.D. P ’03
Brookline, Massachusetts

Another Look at Ved Mehta

I noted a typo in the obituary for Ved Mehta. He was in the class of 1956, not 1952, the year he would have entered Pomona College. I was in the class of 1957 and knew him, sharing at least one history class where the professor deferred to him and often asked him to comment. Some years ago, during a visit to the Century Association in New York, Ved’s club, he said to me, “Andrew, how nice to see you again.” I believed I was being seen by him.

—Andrew Hoyem ’57
San Francisco

Mark Wood: An Appreciation

Pomona College and so many of us will miss Mark Wood’s stellar career at the College producing award-winning, enticing and magnificent issues of PCM. I can’t imagine a person who could fill his shoes! He brought the publication to high levels never before dreamed of. His national recognition for the publication has not gone unnoticed by any of us in the Pomona community and beyond. I’m deeply grateful for all that he has done to enhance the lives of alumni and current community members as, with each issue, we broaden our understanding of the College, its people and the work that goes on at Pomona.

Bravo!

—Marylyn Pauley ’64, P ’87, GP ’21
Trustee Emerita
Ketchum, Idaho

Stray Thoughts

Pomona is back.

Pomona is backAs we go to press, students are once again attending classes in Crookshank and Carnegie, Pearsons and Pendleton, the many Seaver buildings and all the other places you remember.

Alexander Hall no longer feels eerie and silent as it did for so many months after the evacuation, when the admin building’s remaining population largely consisted of past presidents depicted in oil paintings on the upstairs walls.

The reality of the return to campus sank in for me in late August on the first day of move-in when I came across the once-ordinary scene of students sitting together in circles on sunny Marston Quad. After more than a year with campus closed, the presence of so many students struck me enough that I pulled out my iPhone and started snapping pictures.

Days later, Opening Convocation arrived not in Little Bridges but on that same outdoor quad as a safety measure, with everyone wearing masks for another layer of defense against the virus. The organ music still swelled, and the speakers offered their invocations and inspirations in the usual order. But the ceremony at once felt diffuse and more festive unfolding on the open lawn instead of in the stately music hall.

More notable differences from your Pomona days: weekly COVID-19 tests for students, quarantine protocols and signs everywhere reminding people to mask up inside. Outdoor classrooms dotting the campus are another distinctive sign of our adaptation. The return of students and greater normalcy come against the backdrop of daily reporting on nationwide deaths and hospitalizations with the Delta variant of COVID-19 still at high levels of transmission. Some colleges and universities in our region and beyond already have had to temporarily switch to online classes in the face of outbreaks, and we are all working to hold them off here.

Accounts of Pomona during World War II, with programs accelerated to year-round and so many aspects of ordinary life turned upside down, once felt distant and surreal all these decades later. Now we are in a different kind of historic struggle, making progress and gaining some ground with the return to campus, but still very much in the thick of it.

I know you are likely in the thick of it as well. Members of our extended global community have suffered the passing of loved ones and have put in endless work hours in hospitals and labs and public health agencies seeking to quell COVID-19. Our hope is that in the ongoing pandemic, this publication we all share connects you to something enduring in your Pomona experience. In that vein, we’d like to hear from you: Write to us at pcm@pomona.edu.

Passages

Our lives are mostly continuity. Days blur into a seamless river of time, broken only by a handful of true discontinuities that stand like dams against the flow of years, shunting our lives onto new and radically different courses.

Some of these are matters of fate and circumstance. Winning the lottery, getting a dream job, getting fired, losing a loved one. This year we’ve all been shaken by one of the most disruptive of all—a pandemic.

Other disruptions take the form of cultural milestones—rites of passage in the course of a modern life. Starting school, leaving home, graduating, getting a job, getting married, having a baby. These transitions seem almost sacramental. They transform our lives, but they also make us feel part of something bigger than ourselves. We look forward to them with equal parts anticipation and fear because they promise both possibility and uncertainty. They also remind us that the clock is ticking inexorably on our lives.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately because I now find myself on the brink of another of life’s sacramental passages—the one called retirement. By the time you read this, I will be at home, readjusting to a new life. And though I do feel some trepidation and wistfulness, I’m also excited about the prospect of focusing all my time and energy on my own writing and art, not to mention catching up on a lot of reading and, once this pandemic is done, having more freedom to travel.

I’ve gotten plenty of advice from friends who’ve walked this path before me, mostly about not repeating their mistakes. There are plenty of mistakes to be made, and I’m sure I’ll invent a few of my own. The best advice I’ve gotten, though, came from Professor Emeritus Richard Fass, who took my elbow one day and said with a wink: “Just remember: It’s a process.”

Which, I suppose, makes it like every other great milestone in life.

But I have to say that leaving this job is a bigger transition than most. I’m now in my 23rd year at Pomona—the longest I’ve ever worked or lived anywhere. This issue of Pomona College Magazine is the 65th I’ve had the privilege of designing and overseeing as either managing editor or executive editor. That number, I was surprised to discover, accounts for more than a third of the total since the very first PCM rolled off a press back in October 1963.

To that, I can only add: Thank you for putting up with me for so long.

When you retire, there are lots of sentimental “lasts’ to get through. This is one of them—the last one of these little essays I’ll ever write. Over the years, I’ve penned lots of them, usually about my take on something relevant to the magazine’s theme. In many of them, I’ve shared personal recollections and reflections from my own life—from childhood memories to the trials of parenthood to, in this case, saying goodbye to a career that I’ve mostly loved. I’ve done this, at the risk of oversharing, because I’ve always believed the universal is in the individual. I hope some of what I’ve written about my own life has resonated with yours.

Twenty-three years ago, in the very first of these little missives, I promised you a magazine that would respect your intelligence, and I noted that PCM’s mission should be to “inform, entertain and sometimes disturb. Like an old friend, it should be reliable, but it should frequently surprise you. It should make you think. In the Pomona tradition, it should challenge you.”

That charge is one that I now leave, with a high degree of confidence, for PCM’s next editor.

Letter Box

Remembering
Bill Wirtz

Professor Bill Wirtz leading an animal-trapping expedition with students at Marine Corp Base Camp Pendleton near San Diego. —Photo by Helen Wirtz

Professor Bill Wirtz leading an animal-trapping
expedition with students at Marine Corp Base Camp Pendleton near San Diego. —Photo by Helen Wirtz

We would like to recognize the legacy of Emeritus Professor William “Bill” Wirtz, who recently passed away in Norco, California, at 83 years old. Bill provided invaluable experience-based learning to generations of Pomona College students that brought the natural world into focus for all and inspired many of us to continue on in biology and ecology careers.

Many of us fondly remember Bill’s ecology course that included overnight trips to the Granite Mountains (to study desert ecosystems) and the Pitt Ranch (oak woodland/grasslands) and day trips to the San Gabriel Mountains (chaparral and coastal sage scrub communities). Bill was in his element with students in the field. He had a seemingly infinite knowledge of the natural history of mammals, birds, reptiles and plants and how they all fit together in an ecological community. Bill’s infectious enthusiasm and passion for biology made us eager to learn more. His vertebrate biology course featured infamous exams that required students to identify the bones of elephants, seals, snakes and birds and discuss their evolution across taxonomic groups.

Some of us were lucky enough to work for Bill as teaching assistants in the laboratory or as research assistants in the field. These experiences did two things simultaneously. First, Bill taught us how to “do” science, which formed our foundation in biological theories and methods. Second, his guidance inspired us to ask our own questions about nature and humanity’s relationship with it. Bill’s kind and patient mentorship motivated many of us to pursue careers as academics and practitioners, passing on his legacy to new generations.

Bill formed deep friendships with many students that lasted a lifetime. He sometimes referred to us as his academic “kids.” When we checked in with stories from our professional lives, we could feel his pride in our accomplishments. We also knew we could turn to Bill anytime for mentorship and advice.

Bill was a treasured friend and an engaged community member, dedicating his time to a number of endeavors, including fire rescue, the Audubon Society and animal welfare through the Humane Society. His endless passion for biology continues to live on in the work of his students. Bill will be sorely missed and fondly remembered.

—Tania Abdul ‘95, director of Breathe, United for Racial and Environmental Justice

Joel Brown ’80, distinguished professor emeritus, biological sciences, University of Illinois – Chicago

Susan Burr ’91, vice president, AECOS Inc.

Scott Fujimoto ’94, public health medical officer, California Department of Public Health

Julie Hagelin ’92, senior research scientist, Institute of Arctic Biology, University of Alaska, Fairbanks

Greta Hardin ’94, forest lands manager

Brian Hudgens ’92, vice president and senior research ecologist, Institute for Wildlife Studies

Glennis Julian ’92, research technician, Butterfly Genetics Lab, University of Cambridge

Roger Lai ’94, senior product manager, 8×8 Inc.

Brad Lamphere ’93, assistant professor of biological sciences, University of Mary Washington

Audrey Mayer ’94, professor of ecology and environmental policy, Michigan Technological University

Jen Perga ’91, teacher (environmental science), Northwestern Regional High School

Terry Sicular ’76, professor

Gillian Thackray ’92, Thermo Fisher Scientific, chief counsel for IP

John Withey ’91, director & faculty, Master of Environmental Studies Program, Evergreen State College

Clint S. Wright ‘91, emeritus scientist, U.S. Forest Service

A memory of
Ved Mehta

One of my paying jobs during my first year, 1952–53, was serving as Ved Mehta’s reader in biology, a course in which I was also a student. Three nights a week, I sat with him and read the text and tried to explain the diagrams. The diagrams were difficult for us, as Ved was blind. One Sunday night, the devil was in me, and I suggested that instead of reading biology, we walk into town for a coffee at the only place open on a Sunday night, the Sugar Bowl. We did so, and for that night biology took the hindmost.

Perhaps 20 years later, I was leaving a club on W. 43rd St. in New York after lunch just as Ved was leaving his club next door. To my astonishment, when I spoke to him he recognized my voice as the biology reader. We talked for a few minutes, and then went our ways.

At our 50th reunion in 2006, discovering that we were going to cross campus to another event, Ved suggested we walk together, and I remembered his preference for subtle guidance by a touch to his elbows.

It became clear that he retained a strong mental map of the campus as it was, for he paused, concerned, before a place at which  a building in our time now no longer existed   (Harwood Hall, a World War II wood dungeon, for example) and had no idea of what lay beyond 6th Street.

During our stroll, I decided to unburden myself of the guilt I had sometimes felt for taking Ved away from his studies on that Sunday night. He said, with great sincerity, “Oh no, Doug, I will always remember it. It was the first time anyone had suggested that they wanted to do something with me.”

For the record, I must have been an excellent teacher, for Ved always scored above me on biology exams.

—Douglas K. Candland ’56
Lewisburg, Pennsylvania.