Reed College Magazine December 2016

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‰ December 2016

Teaching. professors Seven with Reaching. igniting a faculty for ideas Inspiring.

BATTLE FOR SHAKESPEARE ISLAND  |   THE WHISTLING LANGUAGE  |   FAREWELL, PROF. GILLCRIST


When it comes to the story of your life, every year counts. Like protagonists in their own coming-of-age novels, Reed students arrive on campus seeking intellectual and personal enlightenment. When they graduate, they know that every year at Reed has shaped who they have become. Support every step of their transformation. Make your gift this year, and every year. M A K E YO U R A N N UA L F U N D G I F T TO DAY enclosed

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FEATURES 12

Life Beyond Reed

Our ongoing series showing how the liberal arts shape the careers of Reed grads. 14

Assembling the Freshman Class, One Student at a Time

How does Reed select students?

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Reaching Higher

Reed lovers give $20 million to support the college By Katie Pelletier ’03

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Stepping Up

How do you help disconnected students succeed in school and life? By Amanda Waldroupe ’06

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DEPARTMENTS

Teaching. Reaching. Inspiring.

Seven professors with a faculty for igniting ideas

BY ROMEL HERNANDEZ

Eliot Circular

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Protest Amplifies Race Discussion Two New Trustees Jugglers Bring Hoopla Anthro Students Sprout Organ

30 Reediana

Books, music, and films by Reedies

32 Class Notes

News from our classmates

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37 In Memoriam

Honoring our fallen classmates, professors, and friends

48 Apocrypha The Battle for Shakespeare Island

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cover photo by leah nash & christopher onstott / nashco

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Letter from the editor

december 2016

www.reed.edu/reed_magazine 3203 SE Woodstock Boulevard, Portland, Oregon 97202 503/777-7591 Volume 95, No. 4 MAGAZINE editor

Chris Lydgate ’90 503/777-7596 chris.lydgate@reed.edu class notes editor

Katie Pelletier ’03 503/517-7727 pelletic@reed.edu In Memoriam editor

Randall S. Barton 503/517-5544 bartonr@reed.edu art director

Tom Humphrey 503/459-4632 tom.humphrey@reed.edu

The Telling from the Trivial It’s the day after the presidential election, and like most Americans, I’m surprised—even stunned—by the result. This is not the time or place to dwell on my opinions about the candidates. But I do think it’s worth asking a basic question. Did voters get the information they need to make an intelligent choice? At first blush, the question sounds absurd. There has never been a political contest in history that has attracted more attention from the media. Every aspect of the race, no matter how trivial, has been been the subject of scrutiny and even scorn, from Trump’s hair to Clinton’s pantsuits. (As I write, a search of “Trump and Clinton” in Google news sites yields 73 million hits.) Yes. The information gushes like a fire hydrant. But this torrent of data makes it hard for voters to distinguish the signal from the noise, the consequential from the clickbait. And the rise of social media and its “trending” algorithms has begotten a bizarre shadow world of misinformation and rumor that is hard to distinguish from fact. A recent report in the New York Times cited some sobering examples: a fake news site claimed that an FBI agent connected to the inquiry into Clinton’s emails had murdered his wife and shot himself. Another reported that Clinton had promised amnesty to undocumented immigrants who voted for her. More than 11,000 users on Twitter retweeted a tweet about a rigged voting machine in Philadelphia. 2

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REED COLLEGE RELATIONS

And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Fake news items swarm through social media like locusts, deepening prejudices, tarnishing reputations, reinforcing stereotypes, and stoking outrage. And ironically, it’s easier to create fake news than real news—fake news, after all, requires no actual reporting. Unfortunately, this trend reinforces older ones—the blurring of lines between news and entertainment, and our tendency to read articles that confirm our existing assumptions, rather than challenge them. It’s possible that the big social-media platforms will improve their algorithms, but I’m not holding my breath. Instead, I think it’s time to double down on the best antidote I know of—education, and specifically, liberal arts education. How do we go about sorting true statements from false ones? How do we distinguish the telling from the trivial? Once we form a hypothesis, can we find a way to test it? Can we borrow insights from literature to shed light on history? Apply a concept from chemistry to a problem in political science? These are precisely the kind of questions that students grapple with at Reed. And I am convinced that they are the best defense against the tide of misinformation that threatens to overwhelm our republic.

—CHRIS LYDGATE ’90

vice president, college relations

Hugh Porter director, communications & public affairs

Mandy Heaton director, alumni & parent relations

Mike Teskey director, development

Jan Kurtz Reed College is a private, independent, non-sectarian four-year college of liberal arts and sciences. Reed provides news of interest to alumni, parents, and friends. Views expressed in the magazine belong to their authors and do not necessarily represent officers, trustees, faculty, alumni, students, administrators, or anyone else at Reed, all of whom are eminently capable of articulating their own beliefs. Reed (ISSN 0895-8564) is published quarterly, in March, June, September, and December, by the Office of Public Affairs at Reed College, 3203 SE Woodstock Boulevard, Portland, Oregon 97202. Periodicals postage paid at Portland, Oregon. Postmaster: Send address changes to Reed College, 3203 SE Woodstock Blvd., Portland OR 97202-8138.


EVENTS AT

More than 200 public events each year.

Friday@4 December 9 Eliot Hall chapel Free

Winter Dance Concert December 10–11 Greenwood Performance Theatre Tickets: events.reed.edu/event/winter_dance_ concert

December’s Tale John Vergin December 15 Eliot Hall chapel Free to the Reed community Tickets: events.reed.edu/event/ decembers_tale

Sensation/Disorientation Tahni Holt, White Bird January 18–22 Diver Studio Theatre Tickets: whitebird.org

Passions United Chamber Music Northwest Winter Festival January 27–28 Kaul Auditorium Tickets: cmnw.org

STIMULATE YOUR INTELLECT.

Bach Orchestral Suites Portland Baroque Orchestra February 19 Kaul Auditorium Tickets: pbo.org

Purcell & Shakespeare Portland Baroque Orchestra March 12 Kaul Auditorium Tickets: pbo.org

Peace, Love, and Misunderstanding Portland Gay Men’s Chorus March 18–19 Kaul Auditorium Tickets: pdxgmc.org

Chanticleer Friends of Chamber Music March 29 Kaul Auditorium Tickets: focm.org

These Violent Delights Reed Theatre March 31–April 8 Diver Studio Theatre Tickets: events.reed.edu/event/these_ violent_delights

Black Mozart: Chevalier Saint-Georges Portland Baroque Orchestra February 2 Kaul Auditorium Tickets: pbo.org

Arvo Pärt Festival Cappella Romana February 12 Kaul Auditorium Tickets: cappellaromana.org

JOIN OUR MAILING LIST AT events.reed.edu. REED COLLEGE 3203 SE Woodstock Blvd. Portland, OR 97202


Letters to Reed Write to us! We love getting mail from readers. Letters should be about Reed (and its alumni) or Reed (and its contents) and run no more than 300 words; subsequent replies may only run half the length of their predecessors. Our decision to print a letter does not imply any endorsement. Letters are subject to editing. (Beware the editor’s hatchet.) For contact information, look to your left. Read more letters and commentary at www.reed.edu/reed_magazine.

Fallen Classmates

The table of contents page for the September issue of Reed describes the In Memoriam section as “honoring our fallen classmates, professors, and friends.” “Fallen” is a euphemism most commonly used to describe the sad fate of soldiers who have been killed in action; I question whether the word is appropriate for classmates, professors, and friends who may have simply lived out their natural life spans or succumbed to accidental injuries or disease. Mother Reed taught use to use language clearly, exactly, and precisely. Could we not perhaps describe the people mentioned in this section as either “departed” or “deceased?” John Cushing ’67 Portland When it comes to euphemisms, you’re damned if you do and consigned to extensive unpleasantness if you don’t. We first started using this term some years ago, leaning on the idea of “Comrades of the Quest.” I concede that “fallen” has martial (and arboreal) overtones, but it seems less mealy-mouthed than other terms. Can anyone suggest a better alternative? From the Editor:

Thank you for your article in the September issue about the life and death of Prof. William Couch [English 1953-55]. Dr. Couch was my Humanities 11 conference leader during my freshman year. When I think about what a Reed education means to me, Dr. Couch comes immediately to mind. Four weekly conferences and one paper all year long, each paper followed by an individual conference in which the paper was mercilessly dissected and reassembled. Whatever success I may have achieved in using the English language, I owe to Dr. Couch. I don’t recall being 4

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PROCESSION OF THE MAGI. Pipers leading the 1967 thesis parade are (from left) Michael Halperin ’67, Prof. T.C. Price Zimmerman, Linda Blackwelder Pall ’67, and Prof. John Hancock.

aware that he was a professional musician and WWII combat officer, but given the respect that he commanded among me and my classmates, I am not surprised. Chris Mathews ’58 Corvallis, Oregon

The Polymath Hancocks

I was surprised and touched to read about the career of retiring Prof. Virginia Oglesby Hancock ’62 [music 1991–2016] in the last issue. She and I were in the same class at Reed. Indeed, I believe we were in the same chemistry class, taught by the man she would later marry, Prof. John Hancock. She was in her element, while I didn’t belong there and had to withdraw. I haven’t kept in touch with my classmates, so I am learning Virginia’s story only now. Brava!! This woman is serious—and always was! But more than that, her mastery of chemistry and classical music, and her work as an organizer, hint at the quality of a polymath. I respond to that with great warmth in part because I’ve got it myself (world history, astrophysics, contemporary South Africa, active in the LaRouche movement), but also because this is something that we, as a society, lack. What are we doing wrong? The polymath should be a garden-variety type of person. Instead, it’s hard to find one. Now concerning Brahms’s choral music (her book: Brahms’s Choral Compositions and His

Library of Early Music), that too is special, and insufficiently known. Listen to his motets! How is it that I had no clue about Brahms’s choral music, other than his Deutsches Requiem, until I was perhaps 65? May I digress on Brahms? This is for you, Virginia, but I suspect you may already know it. Gioachino Rossini, the composer of operas, attended a performance of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony. Afterwards, he confided to his companion that he thought it was “a bit tedious.” When this shocking comment came to the ears of Brahms, his retort was highly apropos: “Rossini and Beethoven only have one thing in common: They’ve both written just one opera.” (If you don’t get it, listen to at least three of Rossini’s operas.) Reed recently published a remembrance of John, who died in 1989 as a mere youngster, aged 59. I would like to add my own. It goes back to my first day on campus. After I had dumped my stuff in my dorm room, I headed for the temple—no, it’s called the library. It was open stacks, so I wandered freely. One of my discoveries that day was the great encyclopedia of classical antiquity, the Realencyclopädie der classischen Altertumswissenschaft, usually referred to as Pauly-Wissowa, the names of its first editors— scores of volumes, beautifully bound in leather with decorative gold, red, and green embossing. I emerged from these holy precincts hours later, and headed over to the chapel. I entered to hear—and see—someone playing the organ. It


was John, and he was playing a Bach fugue. He would have been 28 then. I sat down in the pews and listened. We were alone. When he finished, he spoke to me, and so we talked. This experience had consequences. I fulfilled a standing ambition to learn organ by taking lessons in the chapel from Valerian Fox, who played at our Christmas concerts. It turned out that Valerian was choir director at St. Mary’s Cathedral and that John was the organist. Valerian invited me to sing in the choir! Every Sunday, John would pick me up and we would head downtown. I wasn’t a Catholic, but then John wasn’t either. We sometimes discussed politics during the drive. Vatican II was in the future: it was a different world then, and the choir was for men only. The singing was Gregorian chant integrated into the liturgy, as it had been for more than a millennium. John played some glorious Bach compositions as recessionals. On the chemistry side, John had a grant from one of the oil majors (as I recall) to build a molecule structured as a dodecahedron—one of the platonic solids—which he called dodecahedrane. It would be C20H20 with 12 faces, 20 vertices, and all sides pentagonal. He was also proposing to trap a metal ion inside, possibly lithium. He had a collaborator at Portland State. They coordinated their work—the Internet was inconceivable at the time—by installing teletype machines in their offices and connecting over a telephone line. John was inventive; the teletype idea was probably his. He built the first computer at Reed from pinball machine parts—a limited creature that could only calculate the number of possible analogues of dodecahedrane if one were to substitute other elements for the hydrogen. John also gave serious attention to students’ writing skills, and this led to his Short Guide to Chemical Writing. Do you see? He was also a polymath. What a couple, John and Virginia! David Cherry ’62 Leesburg, VA

STAY WARM THIS WINTER

Listening to Ginsberg “Howl”

I was at the poetry reading by Allen Ginsberg and Gary Snyder ’51 at Reed on Feb. 14, 1956. It came about because I was at loose ends and wandering about when I saw a sign in Prof. Lloyd Reynolds’s [English and art 1921–48] calligraphy on a stand announcing the reading. I wandered in and sat down. I’m sure this was the night of Feb. 14 because there were not 20 people there, maybe half a dozen. I was struck by Ginsberg’s reading. I do remember a woman named Carol Baker whom I got to know later. About four years later I married Bob Allen, who was a friend of Gary Snyder’s. I’m almost 80, so I just decided to write stuff down. Joan Berray Allen ’58 Globe, AZ

REED COLLEGE BOOKSTORE ‘Tis the season to resupply on Reed gear, and the bookstore is your one-stop shop for your Reed gifts. We have everything from classic college sweaters to Reed-themed mugs—perfect gifts for staying warm this winter!

bookstore.reed.edu


Eliot Circular news from campus


Protest Amplifies Discussion of Race on Campus

photo by chris lydgate ’90

A day of protest inspired by the Black Lives Matter movement amplified the discussion about race on campus in September. More than 400 students joined a campus demonstration to protest police brutality and racial inequality in the wake of Isaiah Washington’s call for a nationwide boycott to support Black Lives Matter. Students organized a peaceful but boisterous “Noize Parade,” complete with drums, kettles, pots, pans, and pails. Chanting “Black Lives Matter, Black Reedies Matter!” they marched through campus (briefly disrupting a Hum 110 lecture) before rallying in the Quad. In addition to national issues, protesters highlighted the unique difficulties facing black students at Reed, including the small number of black professors and the fact that Reed’s retention rate for black students is lower than the rate for the student body as a whole. Over the past six years, the average six-year graduation rate among black students is 65%, compared to an overall rate of 79%. President John R. Kroger has declared that the graduation rate for all Reedies is too low, and that the achievement gap reflected in these statistics is a call to action. Hundreds of people gathered in the Quad for an open-mic session where students, professors, and staff talked about what it feels like to be black at Reed and in Portland. Some 40 students later presented President Kroger with a list of demands intended to improve the Reed experience for black students, which ranged from more transparency on graduation rates to creating a race and ethnic studies program to restructuring Hum 110. Afterwards Kroger wrote: I write at the end of a very important day for Reed. Our students who led and participated in today’s events have given us a great deal to think about, and I am very grateful to them for their tireless work on the critically important issues they have raised. I know that this came at no small expenses of time and energy, and I appreciate their extraordinary efforts to keep this discussion civil while not undermining its urgency. I am very proud of our students. ...

I, like our students, would very much like to see Reed increase the pace of hiring black tenure-track faculty; make gains in recruiting, retaining and graduating black students; create a comparative race and ethnic studies program; build on programs now in place to scaffold learning at Reed so that students from less well resourced high schools can thrive academically and graduate; and take concrete steps to build a campus culture in which all people of color feel supported and welcomed. Reed has taken steps over the years to make its community more inclusive. The student body comprises 28% U.S. ethnic minorities with an additional 9% international students. Dean for Institutional Diversity Mary James leads efforts to strengthen diversity and oversees the Office of Inclusive Community and the Multicultural Resource Center. Reed offers more than fifty academic courses which address some aspect of race, ethnicity, and gender. The Center for Teaching and Learning hosts workshops where professors can learn how to work more effectively with students from a broad range of backgrounds. Reed’s diversity is reflected in many student groups, including the Arabic Culture Dorm, the Asian Student Kollective, the Black and African Student Union, Chabad at Reed, Latinx Student Union, Oh For Christ’s Sake, Queer Alliance, South Asian Student Union, and the Women’s Center. However, the protest underscored the sense of urgency many students feel on questions of race. “Our goal is to move our institution away from perpetuating racism and towards perpetuating antiracism,” said organizer Addison Bates ’18. “I have been deeply moved by the passion, grace, and spirit of collaboration the student leaders exhibited in bringing our community together to both mourn the national tragedy of black lives lost and to focus attention on critical issues affecting students of color in our own community,” Dean James told the Quest. “My heartfelt thanks go out to all community members who have taken the time to both speak and listen in the last two days.”

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adam brewer

Eliot Circular Reed Welcomes Two New Trustees photo by henry garfukel / redux

C o u r t e s y o f O r e g o n E p i s c o pa l S c h o o l

Mo Copeland ’82

Reed recently welcomed two new trustees, Mo Copeland ’82 and Amy Madigan, who bring experience from the fields of science, education, and the performing arts.

Mo Copeland graduated from Reed with a B.A. in physics and has been an educator for more than 30 years. “I am thrilled to have an opportunity to give back and support Reed as an alumna trustee,” she says. “I chose Reed as a school I knew would engage me in an intellectual conversation with fellow students and professors—and it did.” Mo is the head of the Oregon Episcopal School, a private, preK-12 in Portland. Before that, she was the head of Saint George’s, a non-denominational K-12 school in Spokane, Washington, and she served as dean of faculty at Lakeside School in Seattle. Mo has extensive experience teaching physics and math at the Moses Brown School in Rhode Island and the Putney School in Vermont. She has served on numerous boards and accreditation committees such as the Pacific Northwest Association of Independent Schools Board, where she was president from 2007-09. Mo’s husband Chris is a bookseller, and they have two children: Daniel, who graduated from Reed in 2011, and Nick, who graduated from Lewis & Clark. Mo served as an admission volunteer at Reed for 22

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Amy Madigan

years and says, “Reed holds a unique place in higher education in terms of its commitment to genuine, deep learning through engagement. I hope that by serving the school as a trustee, I can be a part of preserving that into the future.” Amy Madigan is a film, television, and stage actress. She earned a B.A. in philosophy from Marquette University and studied piano at the Chicago Conservatory. Her early career was in music: she performed with the rock band Jelly and played keyboard, percussion, and vocals with Steve Goodman in the late ’70s. She also recorded with the Eli Radish Band and performed as a lead singer with Big Daddy. After ten years in the music business she changed course and moved to L.A. to launch a career in acting. Amy is known for her work in many films including Field of Dreams, Places in the Heart, and Twice in a Lifetime. She has appeared in numerous television dramas, series, and in stage productions in New York and Los Angeles. Amy’s acting awards include a Golden Globe, two CableACE awards, and nominations for many others including Oscar, Emmy, and Golden Glove awards. She is married to actor, director, and screenwriter Ed Harris; their daughter Lily Harris graduated from Reed in 2016. —KATIE PELLETIER ’03

Catch the Spirit Hundreds of jugglers, performance artists, and vaudevillains descended on Reed in October to celebrate the Portland Juggling Festival, now in its 26th year. Founded by Stuart Celerier ’83, the festival draws legerdemaniacs from around the globe to perform acts of daring and assorted, er—hoopla.


Riggs Hailed for Working Weekend Digital entrepreneur Adam Riggs ’95 was honored with the Babson Society Outstanding Volunteer Award in September for his leadership in establishing Working Weekend, an annual conference that connects Reed students to alumni with similar career interests. Alice Harra, Director of the Center for Life Beyond Reed, presented Adam with

the award, hailing Working Weekend as an inspiring event that helps Reed students connect with alumni mentors and explore career fields and paths. The success of the program was echoed by student testimonials and has proven so popular that it has now been split up into a series of focused events such as Mindstorm, TechFayre, and the Winter Shadows.

The presentation took place at Reed’s annual Volunteer Recognition Dinner, which honors alumni volunteers who, through their generous contributions, help advance Reed and support student success. The Babson award was established in honor of the legendary trustee Jean McCall Babson ’42 and recognizes outstanding volunteer efforts by Reed alumni.

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Eliot Circular Character Sketch

C o u r t e s y o f t h e a r t i s t a n d J a c k S h a i n m a n G a l l e r y. P h o t o b y E va n L a L o n d e

Photo by Maggie Shannon

For some people, the humble sketchbook serves as a diary or a place to take notes. For artist Brad Kahlhamer, the sketchbook is a nomadic studio, a book of moments in which he captures divergent geographies, myths, and cultures. Through December 15, the Cooley Gallery is exhibiting more than 40 works of his sculpture, painting, and drawing, including his sketchbooks. Kahlhamer’s drawing connects deeply to punk, comics, and graphic novels, and he has called the ledger art of the Plains Indians “the first American graphic novels.”

Brad Kahlhamer, Sketchbook, ca. 2015, Ink, paint, pencil, and mixed media on Moleskine notebook.

DC Reedies Talk Americanah

Anthro Students Sprout New Organ

In October, Jonathan Make ’98 hosted DC Reed alumni to discuss Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, a transcontinental romance that stretches across time and cultures. “The conversation was lengthy—more than two hours—opinionated, wideranging and decidedly enjoyable. All participants in the latest meeting of the D.C. Reedies Book Club seemed to enjoy Americanah, whether they had just read it for the first time, were re-reading it or—in the spirit of a Reed conference

Anthro students at Reed have launched a peer-reviewed journal titled Radicle: Reed Anthropology Review, with the mission of illustrating the relevance of anthropology today and its collaborative, interdisciplinary, and multimedia nature. The first issue demonstrates an impressive range of subjects, from Thailand’s growing “gestational surrogacy” industry to the way popular media cover new developments in the field of dolphin communications. The title is not a misprint. Radicle refers to the part of a part of a seed that initiates growth and develops into roots.

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attendee—ran out of time to read it fully beforehand. Most seemed to agree that the book, although more than 500 pages and sprawling in the sense that it had scenes from three continents, had a well-defined core.” As supplemental material, the group looked at a recent issue of Elle magazine that featured Adichie, and they watched a video of Beyoncé’s “Flawless” showcasing some of her words. Read about the full discussion (spoiler alert!) at Jonathan’s blog at medium.com/@makejdm.


Prof Wins Awards to Pursue Work on Radical Theatre Hidden away in a storage locker in Manhattan is a rolling suitcase containing a collection of notebooks cloth-bound in an assortment of colored chinoiserie. These are some of the diaries of the late Judith Malina, the legendary director and cofounder of the Living Theatre, the oldest experimental theatre company in the nation. The company was created to be a tool for political activism; this was at a time when women’s roles in theatre were largely confined to the stage or costume shop, making Malina’s achievements all the more revolutionary. The going was never easy, but Malina had grit and optimism, and she wrote almost daily. When she died in 2015, the Living Theatre’s archivist, Tom Walker, and Malina’s son, Garrick Beck ’71, sought a scholar who could edit her diaries (a sizable body of work). They chose Prof. Kate Bredeson [theatre 2009­—] whose scholarship focuses on theatre and performance during the student movement in Paris in 1968 and includes the Living Theatre. “This is my dream life project. It’s a deep privilege,” she says. Beck and Walker wanted a

Prof. Kate Bredeson in Italy during her Rockefeller Center Residency this summer.

scholar who was not of Malina’s generation. “People who write about the Living Theatre are often contemporaries of the company from the 1960s, and they wanted somebody younger to try to connect the company’s work and Judith’s work to current scholars and students,” Bredeson says. “There is this tendency when talking about the Living Theatre to dismiss them as just ‘those hippies.” Bredeson on the contrary has long been interested in Malina, who sought to completely rewrite the audience/performer contract. In plays like Paradise Now—which,

as it happens, the Living Theatre brought to Reed not long after the tumultuous summer of ’68, and which Prof. Roger Porter [English 1961–2015] reviewed in the Quest—the Living Theatre blurred the boundaries between audience and performer and challenged notions about who makes theatre and for whom. Bredeson’s work has also caught the attention of some prominent organizations. She won a competitive residency at the Rockefeller Center at Bellagio this summer, which took her to Italy to work on her book, A Lifetime of Resistance:

the Diaries of Judith Malina. She was awarded the Edith and Richard French Visiting Research Fellowship at the Beinecke Library to conduct research this year during her sabbatical. She also won a research fellowship from the American Society for Theatre Research and has secured a monthlong residency at Caldera, an artists’ center in Oregon. She is looking for ward to writing about and bringing more attention to Malina and to women directors. “The Living Theatre is older than the Superbowl. This company that a lot of people sensationalize has been more successful than any other experimental theatre company in U.S. history. [...]We should laud them for that and look to them as an example of how to make work that endures.” Bredeson plans to focus her critical introduction and selection of diary entries for the book on Malina’s work as a director, specifically as a woman director. She will focus on Malina’s writing that illuminates her work in the rehearsal room, her artistic direction, and all of her determination to keeping her company going for so long. —KATIE PELLETIER ’03

Reed Runners Raise Cash for Public Schools More than six hundred dashing locomotorists took part in Reed’s annual 5K Fund Run, which raised more than $41,000 for Portland public schools. Undeterred by the gloomy sky, the runners set off from the Old Dorm Block, huffed and puffed their way up Woodstock Boulevard, recovered their breath on Cesar Chavez Avenue, and then raced back down Steele Street. All proceeds from the event went to local elementary schools Duniway, Grout, Lewis,

Llewellyn, and Woodstock. First across the finish line was Ethan Linck ’13, who posted the blazing time of 17:09. (The last time we wrote about Ethan, he set a record for circumnavigating Mount Rainier.) The race featured many other fleet-footed classmates, including BMB major Trevor Soucy ’18, art major Nathaniel Eiffert ’19, David Snower ’20, Joshua Lash ’18, Hayden Kinney ’17, and Marcus Hibbeln ’20.

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Life Beyond Reed Our recurring series explores how the liberal arts shape the careers of Reed grads. For more, check out www.reed.edu/beyond-reed.

Emily Corso ’10

Mixed martial arts fighter, fitness coach

Emily arrived at Reed as a mild-mannered, self-described “goth nerd” with ambitions of being a librarian. Six months after graduating with a religion degree, she was stepping into a cage to do combat as a mixed martial arts fighter, dubbing herself the Mantis Shrimp after a notoriously vicious crustacean. She credits her time at Reed for teaching her to be tough, whether that involved writing her senior thesis, pummeling an opponent in the ring, or, more recently, launching her own company—Bold & Badass Fitness. Thesis: Opening the Black Box of Jewish Literacy: an Evaluation of the Florence Melton Adult MiniSchools as a Response to the 'Crisis of Continuity.' Advisor:Prof. Steve Wasserstrom [religion 1987–] Why did you choose Reed?

Coming out of a small, rural town (Sitka, Alaska), I had purple hair and piercings and felt pretty misunderstood. I wanted to go where people cared about stuff, whatever it was, and where you could be into Shakespeare and System of a Down. Reed was my top choice. How did Reed prepare you to pursue a career as a professional fighter? I was

never very athletic; then I took a self-defense class freshman year for my PE requirement. At first it was a way to blow off steam and be something more than a brain in a jar. It wound up being a transformative experience. What was your first job after graduation? I worked in a

variety of fundraising jobs for non profits—Death with Dignity, Portland Art Museum, Planned Parenthood. I was working 40 hours a week, then catching the bus to the gym to train. Any time I got a new job, I had to tell them I might come to work covered in bruises or with a black eye. It took me time to

decide I just couldn’t work in an office any more, and that’s when I bought into my dream of becoming a professional fighter. [Corso hung up her gloves in 2014, highly ranked as a flyweight with a 4-0 pro record.] Did your Reed education play into your success in the ring?

Definitely. I knew I would test myself at Reed. I learned you have to be mentally and physically tough to survive a challenging experience. And all that writing comes in handy now as a businesswoman with writing ad copy and marketing my brand. How have you enjoyed the transition to becoming an entrepreneur? I highly

recommend it! I like working for myself and knowing that the work you put in every day correlates to reaching more people and expanding the business. It’s a little like a student doing a senior thesis— you learn so much, yet there’s always so much more to learn. Bold & Badass is a very different sort of gym experience—a bit nerdier and more intellectual. We’re oriented to change that goes deeper than your body and transforms your mind, too. And of course, we work with a lot of Reedies.


Gina Collecchia ’09

Audio engineer

Audio engineering seems like an ideal career for Gina. Passionate about music and gifted at math, she found novel ways to combine these fields at Reed, writing a math thesis on music information retrieval that explored the mathematic similarities between songs, artists, or genres, and developing algorithms that allow machines to make sense of audio data. Since graduation, she has published a book on musical signal processing, earned a masters in music, science, and technology from Stanford, and worked for Bay Area companies. Gina recently became a senior audio software engineer at Jaunt VR, where she leads the development of audio algorithms for virtual reality. Thesis: The Entropy of Musical Classification. Advisor Prof. Joe Roberts [math 1952–2014] What does an audio engineer do? At SoundHound, I was

working on machine learning for speech recognition, text to speech, and building our knowledge graph for voice search. For a company of about 100 people, we accomplished some pretty huge things—our personal assistant, Hound, is faster than Apple and Google and uses our own speech recognition. I wanted to do more music and audio. At Jaunt, I’ll be responsible for everything audio. Jaunt has a unique, cinematic approach to virtual reality, and it’s all about capturing 3-D content. What are you working on now?

I’ll be building tools for content creation, binaural (headphone) and Ambisonic (speaker array) audio rendering, and much more. VR is a new frontier for media, so I'm really excited about this new opportunity! What did you learn at Reed that you’ve carried with you into your career? The high level

of work ethic, autonomy, and coursework were a really good setup for research positions, networking, and grad school.

Who should look at audio engineering? There's a lot

of different disciplines that fall into audio engineering: electrical engineering, computer science, linguistics, math, physics, art, psychology—even archaeology! There’s a ton of research to be done on perception of audio and music, and the parts of the brain that it affects. With the developments in artificial intelligence and machine learning, I think we’re going to need a lot more of that research. What are the next big problems for sound engineers to solve? There's still source

separation and speech-related problems to solve, but machine learning has opened the door for a lot of creative research. Google is trying to create the next music sensation like the Beatles with neural networks and deep learning. Like robots writing and producing music?

Yes. And I’m a little skeptical of that kind of thing. I think part of our attachment to music is the desire to be or be with the rock star—to have a connection to the performer, which I don’t think we could ever have with a robot. But there are Spotify- or Pandora-generated playlists that people love. That is one direction [this field is headed] that is rooted in user experience.


Assembling the Freshman Class, One Student at a Time Strolling through campus on a crisp fall morning, watching first-year students read the Iliad in Commons or talk about telomeres in the bookstore, Milyon Trulove cannot repress a smile. As vice president and dean of admission, he shoulders the formidable responsibility of assembling each year’s crop of new Reedies. So how do you go about selecting students for one of the most rigorous and distinctive colleges in the nation? When Trulove first arrived on campus two years ago, he asked his student tour guide how she first heard about Reed. Back in high school, she had been talking about her college search at a restaurant. The waitress overheard her conversation and wrote a suggestion on a paper napkin. It was Reed, of course. “I think about that story a lot,” Trulove says. “There’s this recurring narrative that students will just find us organically, that students will just stumble upon Reed. And some of them do. But the reality is that many of them will never learn about Reed unless we make an effort to reach them. I just don’t have enough napkins to get the word out.” “Reed is so distinctive. So compelling. It has so much to offer,” he continues. “But many students in high school just don’t know anything about it. That’s why we need to tell more people our story. Then comes the self-selection—whether they apply.” By casting a wider net, Trulove has driven the number of inquiries—prospective students who indicate an interest in Reed—from roughly 21,000 in 2012 up to 45,000 today. At the same time, admissions counselors fan out across the country, sharing the Reed story at college fairs and high schools. High-school students, particularly the strong students, are beginning their college searches earlier than ever; many have compiled a list of their top 10 colleges by the end of their junior year. “You really have to start talking to them by the end of their sophomore year to be effective,” he says. “If we’re

14 Reed magazine  december 2016

the most intellectual college in the country, we have to talk to the most intellectual students.” To that end, Reed now hosts a series of “Junior Days” where juniors come to campus to learn more about Reed and college admission in general. As the applications pour in, Trulove and his team dig into the details: grades, test scores, essays, achievements, and backgrounds. “Academic ability and intellect are at the center of what we look for,” he says. “The ability to be successful in the classroom, to excel academically, is always our first criterion. We also know that Reed goes way beyond the classroom, so we look at students’ ability

“ Sit down and talk to any first-year student. Listen to their story. You’ll walk away having heard something remarkable.” —Milyon Trulove to contribute to the community.” The 357 members of the Class of ’20 boast some formidable statistics: 10% were valedictorians of their high school classes and another 2% were salutatorians. 32% ranked in the top 5% of their class. The median scores on their SAT tests were 680 math, 710 verbal, and 680 writing, which puts them at the 96th percentile. The class was drawn from the largest pool ever—5,705 applicants—and is the most selective in Reed’s history, with an admittance rate of 31%. More than half of the incoming students received financial aid, with an average total financial aid package of $42,289 (including grants, loans, and work).

Overall, 34% of the class identify themselves as belonging to a U.S. ethnic minority; for specific groups, the figures are AsianAmerican, 15.7%; Black, 3.2%; Caucasian, 66.3%; Hispanic, 11.2%; Native American, 3.2%; and Pacific Islander 0.3%. A further 10% of the class are international students, making it one of the most diverse entering classes in Reed’s history. “We focused hard to make sure this is a diverse and inclusive class,” Trulove says. “You know, some people, when they talk about enrolling diversity, they talk about making sacrifices—that somehow a more diverse class means a less academic class. I gotta tell you, that’s just not true.” Nonetheless, assembling a diverse class of


photo by leah nash

scholars remains an ongoing challenge, especially when the goal is to reflect not the demographics of Oregon but those of the nation as a whole. A key milestone in the selection process is the campus visit. “We want students to experience Reed firsthand so they can decide if it’s for them or not,” he says. To this end, Reed hosts a “Discover Reed” program for highschool seniors. Over the course of a threeday visit in October, they stay in dorms, go to class, visit the nuclear reactor, and explore Portland. For select multicultural students, Reed pays all expenses—including airfare. “These are strong, diverse students, and they have many great options,” he says. “We have to make sure we are telling our story

as well as other places are telling their story.” Any student who can’t afford plane tickets can apply for travel scholarships. “We’ll fund their trip,” he says. “And sometimes we’ll pay for their parents, too.” Another piece of the puzzle is financial aid. Reed awards financial aid based on need, as opposed to other factors such as academic merit, ethnic diversity, or athletic prowess, so Trulove can’t entice students by dangling extra scholarship money in front of them. “While our approach toward merit scholarship is appropriate and laudable, it does put us at a disadvantage when students are comparing schools,” he says. This year, Trulove and his team decided to shelve the “Why Reed?” essay. Instead,

applicants are asked to describe what course they would teach at Paideia—and why. Trulove came to Reed from Hamline University in St. Paul, Minnesota, where he spent six years as director and then dean of admission and financial aid. “When I see students on campus happy and enjoying their classes, it makes me feel good. We are literally changing lives. It’s an honor. This is probably the most distinctive class in terms of individual feats that I have seen in my career. They’re going to do amazing things. Sit down and talk to any first-year student. Listen to their story. You’ll walk away having heard something remarkable.” “It’s a lot of work,” he smiles. “But there’s no better job in the world.” —CHRIS LYDGATE ’90

december 2016  Reed magazine 15


Reaching Higher

Reed lovers give $20 million to support the college BY KATIE PELLETIER ’03

Reed alumni, parents, and friends made a series of generous gifts totalling more than $20 million during the fiscal year ending June 30 to meet some of the college’s long-standing—and pressing—needs. Thanks to their leadership, the college has been able to make progress on several big projects: launching a fully-fledged computer science program; completing a longheld goal of a comprehensive program in environmental studies; and renovating the chemistry labs, the sports center, and the cross-canyon residence halls. Support for student research and for preparing for careers beyond college received significant contributions from alumni and parents who believe in Reed students’ talents. Donors also provided funding for Reed’s longest-term aspirations: strong financial aid and general support for the endowment and the college’s operations. “Without philanthropy, Reed could not educate the wide range of students coming to the college nor provide them with the same rigorous academics, opportunities for research, small classes, and overall campus experience that it does today,” said President John R. Kroger. “I thank all of those who contributed. Their support enables Reed to create and recreate one of the finest and most distinctive educational programs in the country.” Computer Science Reed’s roots in computer science run deep. In the 1950s, Prof. John Hancock [chemistry 1955–89] built the DIMWIT system for molecular analysis, using relays from confiscated pinball machines. The late, great polymath Prof. Richard Crandall ’69 [physics 1978–2012] famously taught students to design and build a system to transmit computer data from the physics lab to Eliot Hall by means of a laser beam. The link was an integral part of Reed’s computer network for many years. Thanks to strong leadership from trustee Kurt DelBene and former trustee Suzan DelBene ’83, and generous gifts totalling almost $5 million, including a grant from the

16 Reed magazine  december 2016

Microsoft Corporation, Reed is now poised to launch a fully fledged computer science program in September 2017. The college will hire two new tenure-track professors, offer deeper and more advanced coursework to a wider range of students, and establish a major in computer science. Out of this fundraising effort, a chair in computer science was created and named in honor of Crandall. The list of renowned Reed alumni in technology is impressive, and includes Howard Vollum ’36 (Tektronix), Dan Drake ’64 (Autodesk), Peter Norton ’65 (Norton Utilities), Howard Rheingold ’68 (Stanford), Steve Jobs ’76 (Apple), Suzan DelBene ’83 (Microsoft and Drugstore. com), Larry Sanger ’91 (Wikipedia), Luke Kanies ’96 (Puppet Labs), Mara Zepeda ’02 (Switchboard), and Michael Richardson ’07 (Urban Airship). Environmental Studies–Biology Gifts, including lead support from trustee Gary Rieschel ’79 and his wife, Yucca Wong Rieschel, have enabled the college to add a biology position in the environmental studies program, which completes the college’s vision for a program that enables students to engage in cross-cutting issues facing the environment while focusing in a home department (chemistry, political science, history, economics, or biology). New positions in chemistry, history, and political science got the program up and running; bringing in an additional biologist with specific interdisciplinary expertise was the last piece of the puzzle. Chemistry Renovation Reed students want to do more research in chemistry than ever before. To meet the demand, the college is renovating the chemistry labs to better support student and faculty research. Work is underway to double the size of an existing student lab and to upgrade a faculty lab. Sports Center The concept of the importance of mind-body balance goes back at least as far as Plato. In keeping with Juvenal’s classic ideal mens sana in corpore sano—or, a sound mind in

a sound body—Reed has long integrated a physical education requirement into the curriculum. The sports center was originally built in 1965. Thanks to a generous gift from trustee Tim Boyle, the college was able to renovate the building to respond to changes in Reed’s program and student interest. This extensive renovation will create a center for our nationally recognized outdoor program, offering equipment and resources and training for students interested in activities from kayaking to backpacking to advanced climbing. These space changes will expand the overcrowded cardio and weight rooms, and implement ADA and energy-saving upgrades to the pool. Other projects include a new basketball floor and overhauling the locker room facilities. Over the years, the sports center has nourished adventurous souls such as Arlene


photo by christopher onstott

Renovations on the cross-canyon dorms will be complete by fall 2017.

Michael Frazel ’17 finds his route on the new climbing wall, which was installed as part of sports center renovations.

Blum ’66, the first American woman to summit Annapurna; Dan Young MALS ’70, who spent 17 years as offensive line coach of the fearsome University of Nebraska Cornhuskers; and Jennifer Ferenstein ’88, the youngest president of the Sierra Club. Cross-Canyon Dorms Sustainability and livability will soon join forces as Reed gives the cross-canyon residence halls a much-needed renovation, extending the lifetime of these unique structures. Built between 1958 and 1962 and nestled at the edge of the canyon, the dorms are known for their unique midcentury and community-fostering design. Preserving these structures will help the college ensure that the number of on-campus beds never dips below current levels; this has become

increasingly important over the past decade as affordable rentals in Portland have become scarcer while more students want to live on campus than ever before. National studies and Reed’s own experience show that students who live in oncampus housing tend to meet their educational goals more quickly and reliably. “The importance of living on campus during the first year of college to degree completion cannot be overstated,” states a 2011 report from the Higher Education Research Institute. Work on the cross-canyon dorms is underway, with two residence halls renovated this summer and two scheduled for renovation next summer. The first phase was completed in time to welcome students this fall.

Student Research and Career Support Internships, summer research positions, and academic conferences are meaningful opportunities for students to gain realworld experience in their field of interest, but are often unpaid or costly. This year, because of generous student opportunities gifts, Reed has been able to strengthen and expand our financial support of students eager to present original research at conferences, conduct research with faculty over the summer, or secure highly competitive internships. The President’s Summer Fellowship, now in its third year, was created by trustee Dan Greenberg ’62 and his wife, Susan Steinhauser, to offer students a chance to think big and tackle a summer project that combines intellectual pursuit, imagination, adventure, personal transformation, and service to the greater good. This year the fellowship supported seven student projects, including that of Jasmine Williams ’17, who spent the summer teaching children at a Buddhist monastery in Mingaladon, Myanmar. Annual Fund In addition to the gifts mentioned above, alumni and friends gave a record-breaking $4.545 million to the Annual Fund during the fiscal year ending June 30, 2016. A substantial portion of Reed’s annual operating budget (7%) is supported by the Annual Fund. This money pays for operating expenses supporting the entire college such as financial aid, faculty salaries, student support, and maintenance of campus facilities.

december 2016  Reed magazine 17


Stepping Up How do you help disconnected students succeed in school and life? BY AMANDA WALDROUPE ’07

Each morning, before classes begin, the students of Portland’s Open School recite “In Lak’ech,” a Spanish and English poem based on a Mayan greeting that honors the individual and community: Tú eres mi otro yo. You are my other me. Si te hago daño a ti, If I do harm to you, Me hago daño a mi mismo. I do harm to myself. Si te amo y respeto, If I love and respect you, Me amo y respeto yo. I love and respect myself.

Andrew Mason ’90, Open School’s executive director, incorporated the greeting into the school day because it reflects his teaching philosophy: that students cannot learn until they know they’re respected, able to respect others, and able to be an active part of the community. Open School is a non-profit alternative middle and high school in Portland. In Oregon, alternative high schools teach students who have struggled with or dropped out of a traditional public school, or are about to. In 2014, Portland Public Schools had a 30% dropout rate—one of the country’s highest among major cities. An alternative school’s academic requirements are often less demanding but still allow students to earn a GED or diploma. Students who enroll in alternative schools often contend with numerous factors impacting their ability to learn: mental illnesses, learning disabilities, unstable or impoverished homes, and trauma. But Open School does not skimp on academics. Andrew fiercely believes in the ability of his students to become inspired, motivated adults who eventually go to college.

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“A number of these kids have been pushed out by the mainstream system saying they can’t make it. It’s a moral abomination,” Andrew says. “They can and they will.” Open School’s performance proves Andrew right. During the 2014–15 school year, every student advanced at least two grade levels in reading and math. Close to 94% of the school’s seniors graduated, and 90% attend a postsecondary school. Some students, like 13-year-old William, make even greater leaps. When he began attending Open School in the seventh grade,

he had the reading and math abilities of a third-grader. He says the teachers at his old middle school wouldn’t help when he asked. “They told us to remember what they told us and to do the worksheet,” he says. “I was like, how am I supposed to learn?” William’s scores are now at his current eighth-grade level. His relationship with his teachers is much better. “They can be your friends,” he says. “They can talk to you about stuff. You can trust them.” Andrew doesn’t think there is a silver bullet or secret sauce to Open School’s


photo by daniel cronin

“ A number of these kids have been pushed out by the mainstream system saying they can’t make it. It’s a moral abomination. They can and they will. ” —Andrew Mason ’90 have been sculpted to help students receive a diploma. “It is the power of education that interrupts the cycle of poverty. In the end, in this economy, what do you have to do? You have to be able to learn,” he says. “Once you’re educated, you can’t take [that] away.”

success. In addition to typical academic subjects, students also learn social and interpersonal skills, and the school takes time to talk about race, poverty, class, and other issues affecting students’ everyday life. “It has everything to do with a welcoming environment,” Andrew says. “When they show up and they feel heard and seen and then take the standardized test, instead of scribbling doodles or writing ‘fuck you’ on the test, they actually do it because they believe someone cares on the other end.” Open School’s curriculum and pedagogy

Andrew’s lifelong devotion to education and social justice started at Reed. Hailing from New Jersey, he went to Pomona for a year and then transferred to Reed, where he majored in philosophy. He also witnessed student activists who tried to persuade Reed to divest its portfolio from companies doing business in South Africa during the apartheid era. During that time, his thesis adviser, Prof. Marvin Levich [philosophy 1953–94], exhorted him to think about whom he was helping, and why, in the same manner as he did with philosophical subjects: critically, thoughtfully, carefully. After Reed, Andrew worked for the Oregon Youth Conservation Corps teaching forestry skills to at-risk kids, where he learned the value of what he calls “reality therapy.” The kids worked in the middle of the forest, and if they forgot their lunch or warmer clothes, they would go without for the day. “There were days when these kids would just sit in the van because they were too cold,” Andrew remembers. “We’d tell them, ‘We’re not going to go back early. You’re not going to get that reward for choosing to think that it’s too cold.’” There is a tension, he found, between enabling students and helping them. He joined Open School (which until recently was called Open Meadows) as a program director, eventually becoming executive director in 2005. His leadership is guided by the fervent belief that kids—no matter how troubled or knuckleheaded they

appeared to be—have the capacity to learn. “If you don’t believe they’re capable, then you won’t hold them accountable,” Andrew says. “If you hold them accountable without believing they’re capable, then you’re a jerk. That’s the school-tojail pipeline.”

Armed with data on dropout rates and student demographics, Andrew is ready to evolve the alternative high school model. “We have a system where we take kids who’ve already dropped out, who are mainly disproportionately low income and kids of color, in an era when the data has enabled us to identify kids who are going to drop out,” he says. “Why do we wait for them to drop out?” That question is propelling Open School’s next chapter: a middle school that takes kids who have begun to struggle, helps them stay at grade level, and prevents them from failing. Open School opened a new 7th–12thgrade school near the Portland-Gresham border this fall, which draws students from Portland Public Schools and districts in eastern Multnomah County: David Douglas, Centennial, Parkrose, and Reynolds. Increasingly, Andrew says, this area “is where our people are.” According to census data, 89% of public school students east of 82nd Avenue are eligible for free and reduced lunch, versus 20% in 2000. “It’s a 15-year tidal wave of poverty,” Andrew says. When thinking of the experience he wants the students of Open School to have, Andrew looks back, in part, to Reed. “I think back to the times I’ve read the Republic or Oedipus and think about how it comes to life. What about those joys for our students? That was an initial inspiration and dream. That’s still where we’re trying to get to today.”

december 2016  Reed magazine 19


Teaching. Reaching. Inspiring. Seven professors with a faculty for igniting ideas

BY ROMEL HERNANDEZ

For more than 100 years, Reed professors have set themselves apart by treating students as intellectual peers—Comrades of the Quest, to borrow President William T. Foster’s memorable phrase. In this piece we profile seven professors who have recently been appointed to endowed chairs—a mark of esteem from their colleagues and a recognition of their knack for inspiring students.

20 Reed magazine  december 2016

photo by leah nash

Prof. Janis Shampay points out an alternative hypothesis to biology students.



Inspiring InspiringProfessors Professors

[biology 1994–]  RUBEN

CHAIR

In a Nutshell  Growing up near the while others stay the same. When California redwoods, Prof. Karoly studying evolution and natural selecspent his youth hiking and camping, tion, however, it can be as important developing a keen appreciation and to understand stasis as change. The awareness of the natural world. He 3,000 species and varieties of musattended Whitman College to pursue tard plants vary in many ways, but environmental studies, start- The Laurens N. Ruben Karoly is studying why they ing out focused on environ- Professorship in maintain identical stamen Biology honors the mental policy before finding legendary Prof. Ruben, structures—four tall and taught biology himself drawn toward sci- who two short. from 1955 to 1992. ence and biology. A sopho“The fundamental quesmore-year botany course piqued his tion we’re asking about evolution is interest in plants, and a summer spent how some organisms stay relatively as a research assistant in a genetics constant in particular features, such as lab sent him on the path to studying stamens, but have diversified in many evolutionary biology at the University other ways,” he says. “You could do of Chicago. After earning his PhD, he the same thing with mammals, and did postdoctoral work studying the why you only have species with either reproductive biology of wildflowers two or four legs.” at the State University of New York– Stony Brook and the Rocky Mountain Planting Ideas  Karoly involves his Biological Laboratory. But he could Reed students in primary research, not resist the lure of the natural splen- taking them into the field to study dor of the Northwest, landing a posi- natural selection of plant morpholtion at Reed in 1994. ogy and working with them in the

“ Reed is a very intellectually satisfying place to be.” “I also knew Reed had a strong reputation as a place where it was possible to stay active in research and interact with quality students,” he says. “It’s a very intellectually satisfying place to be.” He teaches a wide range of plant biology courses, from Bio 101 to advanced seminars in “Ecology and Evolution of Plant-Human Interactions.” Colonel Mustard in the Library An ordinary yellow wildflower reveals an extraordinary story of evolution to Karoly. By studying something as specific and minute as the presentation of stamens (the male reproductive organs) in a mustard blossom, he gains insights into why plants change—or don’t change—over time. Most biologists tend to focus on change, but they aren’t exactly sure why some organism traits evolve

22 Reed magazine  december 2016

lab to take measurements and conduct experiments. One of the most rewarding parts of teaching at Reed, he said, is the opportunity to engage students in research, taking them on daylong field trips to misty old-growth forests on the edge of the Cascade Mountains or into the Reed canyon to collect plant specimens. “Many students haven’t given much consideration to the plants growing right around them,” he says. “Getting to introduce them to plant diversity in our own backyard is fun.” Karoly finds that teaching has made him a better researcher. “The work involved in preparing courses and working with thesis students is always giving me new insights,” he says.

p h o t o b y m at t d ’a n n u n z i o

Keith Karoly


Janis Shampay [biology 1990–]  VOLLUM

CHAIR

In a Nutshell  Growing up in Clawed Frogs and Telomeres  1960s Ohio, Prof. Shampay was “a At Reed, Shampay has built on her total geek” who dreamed of someday work on telomeres, the structures working for NASA. But, like many that protect the ends of individuyoung girls at that time, people kept al chromosomes, by studying the steering her toward a career in nursing. chromosomes of the African clawed Nevertheless, she chose The Howard Vollum frog. She analyzes how proher own path, attending Chair in Science recteins inhibit telomerase ognizes a professor Northwestern University, who has excelled in and growth of telomeres. while estabwhere she eventually traded teaching Though applications are lishing a record of astrophysics for biology. accomplishment as far down the line, research an experimentalist in After earning a BA in the physical sciencinto telomeres leads to a Howard Vollum ’36 biochemistry and molecular es. greater understanding of was a brilliant inventor who cofounded the biology, she went on to earn Tektronix cancer growth (and the flipCorporation. a PhD in molecular biology side, cellular aging). If sciat UC Berkeley. She learned about entists can figure out how to inhibit chromosomes from the very best, telomerase in humans, that work working as a grad student in the might point to possible antitumor laboratory of pioneering researcher treatments. Elizabeth Blackburn, who won a Nobel Prize in 2009. Shampay was a key “ You have a higher caliber contributor to this groundbreaking of students at Reed. I can research leading to the discovery of push the more advanced an enzyme in chromosomes called students. I come to view telomerase—a research area she them more as junior continues at Reed. “It was completely new and excit- colleagues. I consider ing,” Shampay recalls of her time my primary role here to with Blackburn, her doctorate advinurture scientists.” sor and mentor. “We found a new model for how chromosome ends are different, what makes them dis- The Grand Scheme  Capping her tinguishable.” (Blackburn mentioned 26th year at Reed, Shampay prides Shampay’s contribution in her Nobel herself on a no-nonsense approach to speech in Stockholm.) After a short teaching, and understands the value stretch as a postdoc researcher at of encouraging students to take risks UC–San Francisco, Shampay want- in their own lab research. “We have a ed to teach, knowing that college saying in the department that research was a place she could continue her is teaching is research,” she says. “They research while involving undergrad- inform each other . . . . Being forced to uates in the lab. She arrived at Reed think about something other than teloin 1990, when there were relative- meres gives me a perspective on where ly few women teaching in the “hard” my work fits in the grand scheme of sciences. Over the years, Shampay biology in a way that might not happen has received grants from the National at a huge research university.” Science Foundation and the Murdock “My favorite part of the job is seeCharitable Trust. She has been a role ing things start to click for students model for students since joining the at all levels,” she says. “I enjoy havReed faculty. ing both majors and non-majors in Bio 101 and I think it’s important to reach both.”

december 2016  Reed magazine 23


Inspiring Professors photo by christopher onstott

David Garrett [history 1998–]

SCHOLZ CHAIR

In a Nutshell  Prof. Garrett grew up in Pittsburgh and earned a BA in political philosophy from Yale. He was entranced by the Andes on a backpacking trip after graduating. “I was fascinated by the complexity and history of the society, and awed by the beauty. And I met such great people.” He later switched from European history to Latin American history, earning an MA from Harvard University before moving to Columbia University for his MPhil and PhD. Garrett joined the Reed faculty in 1998, several years before finishing his dissertation. He was attracted to the college by the intellectual climate on campus. Reed offered freedom to pursue teaching and scholarship in pretty much any direction, and Garrett has taken full advantage of the opportunity. “The amount of faculty autonomy is fantastic,” he said. “Reed is a small village, but it’s a great village.” A Trip to Cusco  Garrett spends most summers going back to Cusco, Peru, visiting friends and hunting through historical archives in pursuit of centuries-old records documenting life under Spanish rule. His research provides surprising insights into viceregal history in the Andes. “I think people have overly simplistic views about the period and society,” Garrett says, “when it was really enormously complicated.” His 2005 book, Shadows of Empire: The Indian Nobility of Cusco, 1750–1825, examined the complex and often contradictory social, economic, cultural, and political structures of colonial society. He has written extensively in both English and Spanish, and his book was published in Spanish as Sombras del imperio. Garrett’s work explored the role of Peru’s indigenous nobility, the descendants of Incan rulers who continued to enjoy a privileged status

24 Reed magazine  december 2016

The Richard F. Scholz Chair of History and Humanities honors Reed’s second president [1921–24], a visionary and innovator who created Reed’s rigorous core curriculum.

“ I love teaching first-years. Having them together for a year develops esprit de corps, the whole firstyear class doing the same reading. So you always have something to talk about in the dining hall.” in society two centuries after the conquest. These native elites were central to the colonial order, even defending it during the 18th–century Tupac Amaru rebellion. Currently, he studies how multiple space-times— indigenous, colonial, and imperial— intersected and diverged in the Andes. A Versatile Iberianist  As the only Latin Americanist and Iberianist in Reed’s history department, Garrett’s classes have covered a wide range of

topics, spanning ancient to modern history, from the Incas and the Spanish Golden Age to the Mexican Revolution. That versatility comes in handy at a small college. Garrett’s boundless energy and enthusiasm have made him a student favorite on the faculty. He also has lent his teaching talents to the college’s Master of Arts in Liberal Studies and Humanities in Perspective programs, both aimed at nontraditional students. Garrett takes special pleasure in teaching Humanities along with Latin American history. Where else would he get to teach Bolívar and deliver a lecture on the Code of Hammurabi? “The mix is fascinating,” he said. “After the students, it’s the best part of teaching at Reed.”


David Perkinson [mathematics 1990–] GRIFFIN

CHAIR

Sandman  Prof. Perkinson sees beauty in a pile of sand—an Abelian sandpile, to be more precise. Which isn’t an actual pile of sand, but a mathematical model for the dispersion of energy. Abelian sandpiles exhibit what is known as “self-organized criticality,” using accumulating sand to represent how these dynamical systems are structured. To get an idea of the subject, imagine bits of energy or information cascading in avalanches throughout a network. The sandpiles are dazzling to the eye, hinting at the sophisticated mathematics lying underneath. The Abelian sandpile model is connected to other branches of mathematics, particularly algebraic geometry, his specialty. Sandpile theory can also be applied to understanding complex systems in the natural world. He is currently finishing a book, Divisors and Sandpiles, with

photo by nashco

In a nutshell  Growing up in suburban St. Louis, the future professor was rooting through some boxes in his family’s basement one day when he stumbled across an old textbook on calculus his father had kept from his college days. “I didn’t understand it, but I felt like I had found something magical,” he says. Perkinson fell in love with mathematics. He earned a BA in math from Grinnell and went on to study algebraic geometry at the University of Chicago, where he earned his PhD. “Being a math professor,” he says, “seemed like the ultimate thing you could do.” He joined Reed’s faculty in 1990 because it was the kind of college he would have loved to attend. “Reed would be my dream school,” he said. “I love teaching, and this is a perfect place to teach.” Music is also an important part of his life: he plays guitar and violin, and for several years was a member of the Zimbabwean marimba band Thunkadelic with family and friends.

his former thesis student, Scott Corry ’01, who is now a math professor at Lawrence University. Out of Africa  Perkinson’s dedication to teaching and sense of adventure have taken him to Africa as a visiting lecturer for the African Institute for Mathematical Science (AIMS). The organization promotes math education and research in Africa, recruiting top professors for a Masters program designed to prepare talented students for further graduate studies. He has taught in Ghana, Cameroon, and South Africa. “You meet these young, super-motivated people with the same love of mathematics,” he says. “AIMS is helping to open doors for them.” Perkinson enjoys conveying a sense of beauty and wonder to his students, be they at Reed or in Africa. “Teaching is the same process,” he says. “I get to explain something I love, something beautiful.”

“ Ultimately, I like to solve problems —mathematics is enriched by its connections to the world.”

The F.L. Griffin Professorship in Mathematics was established to recognize an excellent teacher and mathematician who serves the college with distinction. It is named for Reed’s very first professor of mathematics, Prof. Frank Loxley Griffin, who came to campus in 1911, inspired generations of students, and served as president 1954–56.

Making Connections  Each year, a new group of students with diverse mathematical interests passes through Perkinson’s courses. A major focus for him is to help them find engaging problems from the world of modern mathematics. “I’ve had brilliant students who are better mathematicians than me,” he notes. “I’ve also had students for whom mathematics was difficult, and I’ve enjoyed working with those students as well. But most of all, I’m proud of connecting my students with current research in mathematics.”

december 2016  Reed magazine 25


Inspiring Professors

Jim Fix [computer science 1999–]  CRANDALL

CHAIR photo by nina johnson ’99

Scratching an Itch  Prof. Fix was software to get a job. This program the first tenure-track computer sci- is about algorithms and mathematentist ever hired at Reed, ical thinking about the Richard E. which gave him the opportu- The limits of computing and Crandall Professorship Computer Science nity to build a program from inhonors computation.” the rich intelscratch. It took some time, lectual legacy of the late Reed graduate but in 2017 the college will (Class of ’69) and long- In a Nutshell  Fix grew up time physics and comlaunch a full-blown comput- puter in Pittsburgh and attended science professor er science program, thanks [1978–2012]. Carnegie Mellon University, to donors who contributed majoring in math and com$5 million to support it. puter science. As an under“Reed gave us a chance, and I feel graduate he was interested in scientific really good about the courses, the cur- computing. He sought internships riculum, the people we’ve hired,” he at Westinghouse Electric, where he says. “Computer science can be real- worked on code for full-scale nuclear ly rigorous, and it doesn’t need to reactor simulators, and at Lawrence be about training students to write Livermore (LLNL), where he worked

26 Reed magazine  december 2016

“ Liberal arts schools like Reed produce computer science majors who can write, think, and communicate. And they also have great technical chops.” on code for seismic tomography and signal recognition. He also taught for several years as part of CMU’s introductory programming group. LLNL’s supercomputers made him deeply curious about the theory of parallel algorithms, and he pursued that research for his PhD at the University of Washington. Ultimately, his love of teaching computer science led him


Julie Fry [chemistry and environmental studies 2008–]  SCOT T

Apples and Algorithms  When he was a kid back in the 1980s, Jim wrote a program in BASIC on a cousin’s Apple II and was thrilled when, at the age of 12, he received a Commodore 64 home computer as a present. Computer technology has evolved more than a byte since those days. Today Fix explores the vast possibilities of parallel computing, which involves the coordinated use of supercomputers to solve massive computational problems. He explores the theoretical side of computation, designing and analyzing algorithms that support parallelization. Doing the Math  Some people questioned whether computer science was a good fit at Reed, but Fix answered skeptics by developing a rigorous, math-focused program with a strong emphasis on theory whose courses have proven popular. He notes that the number of students taking the introductory computer science class has grown to about 120. “Really, computer science and the liberal arts are a perfect combination,” Fix says. “We’ve reinvented the way computer science is taught.”

photo by jordi huisman

into a career in academia. Since arriving at Reed in 1999, he has focused much of his energy on starting the computer science program. Currently the program has three professors, one housed in biology. A fourth is joining Reed next year. Before the expansion Fix shouldered the curriculum, teaching courses on subjects ranging from computer hardware to computational complexity. He has managed to keep pace with advances in his field, and now that the computer science program is established, he is looking forward to spending more time on his own research.

CHAIR

Smog Buster  Trained as a research In a Nutshell  Prof. Fry grew up in Michigan, where her hometown’s chemist, Fry spent most of her career proximity to Dow Chemical’s head- studying the science of smog before quarters meant the schools provid- deciding she wanted to do more than ed excellent science education and just study air pollution—she wantlabs. She wanted to be a scientist ed to do something about solving and majored in chemistry at the the problem. A decade after earning University of Rochester. A Fulbright her PhD in atmospheric chemistry grant took her to Germany at the California Institute Dr. Arthur F. Scott to study solid-state surface The of Technology and having Chair in Chemistry honors Prof. Arthur chemistry, before she shift- “Scotty” established herself at Reed, Scott [chemed to atmospheric chemistry istry 1923–79], who she went back to school. She served as president at Cal tech. After gradu- of Reed during WWII, took a sabbatical over the Reed’s first nucleate school, she worked as arbuilt 2015–16 school year to earn reactor—out of a a climate policy fellow with pickle barrel—and a master’s degree in enviinspired generations of the Environmental and students. ronmental law at Lewis & Energy Study Institute in Clark Law School. Washington, DC. She realized early “I loved being a student again,” she on that she enjoyed teaching sci- said of her time in law school. “I loved ence as much as she enjoyed doing the intellectual challenge of learning research, and in 2008 jumped at the a new perspective on environmental chance to teach at Reed. She was a problems.” visiting professor for a year, then stayed. “I wanted to be somewhere Climate for Change  Fry’s scienwhere teaching well is an equal focus tific work has focused mainly on the alongside doing research,” she says. chemical processes that result in air

december 2016  Reed magazine 27


Inspiring Professors

Julie Fry continued pollution, specifically the ways nitrogen oxides emitted from car exhaust and factory smokestacks produce particulate haze in the earth’s atmosphere. Because this haze cools the planet, her science and policy interest intersect in what is arguably the biggest policy issue facing the planet—climate change. “My research is more about how particulates cause climate change than how to combat it,” she says. “But it’s a very important problem, and I feel a responsibility to work on the relevant science.” And although she jokes that students sometimes refer to her and a colleague she coteaches with as “Professors Doom and Gloom,” she is “cautiously optimistic” that attitudes and policies are moving in the right direction. “Yes, things are changing quickly,” she says. “But we’re not moving fast enough; we need greater urgency.” Taking the Air  Fry’s scholarship may be broadening, but she continues to enjoy being out in the field or in the lab, working with students on research. She makes a point of taking her classes out on field trips to take air measurements in the Columbia Gorge and the Brooklyn railyard not far from campus. “I’m a huge proponent of getting students out there doing independent research,” she said. “I’ve always liked the idea that the world is there to be discovered if you have the right ideas and right tools and ask the right questions.” Fry also played a pivotal role in developing Reed’s environmental studies program, an interdisciplinary major that draws on biology, chemistry, economics, history, and political science. “It was something students had wanted a long time, and it very quickly became a strong program,” she says, noting that 8–12 seniors a year now graduate in environmental studies.

28 Reed magazine  december 2016

Ann Delehanty [French 2000–]  MACARTHUR

CHAIR

In a Nutshell  Prof. Delehanty grew amazed by how much he managed up in St. Paul, Minnesota, earned a to do in such a short time.” (Pascal BA in philosophy at Carleton College, died at 39.) Unapologetically interand then switched to study compar- disciplinary, Delehanty’s scholarship ative literature in graduate school stands at the intersection of philosat UC–Berkeley, where she special- ophy, literature, and history, reflectized in 17th-century French litera- ing her own Pascalian sensibilities. ture. In 2000, Delehanty landed a position with Reed’s French depart- Book it, Anno  Her 2012 book, ment, where she teaches an array of Literary Knowing in Neoclassical France: courses in French language From Poetics to Aesthetics, The John D. and literature. The deciding MacArthur Chair was explored the 17th century’s by the factor in her taking the job established epistemological shift from MacArthur Foundation at Reed was the opportuni- to support exceptionreason to the notion of a al faculty members in ty to teach humanities—a diverse fields. “literary sublime.” The book reflection of her diverse interrepresented, in her words, ests. “I came to Reed because teach- an effort to trace “the history of an idea—that literature might offer us access to transcendental and ineffa“ Reed students have ble truths.” She explored this transforchanged my life in mation through the works of several amazing ways. I’ve had 17th-century thinkers, including, of the most rewarding course, Pascal, who famously wrote, “The heart has its reasons of which reaexperiences over son knows nothing.” the years.” ing Hum 110 was the most exciting thing I could imagine,” she says, “the ability to spend a whole year in a conversation with students asking some very important and very difficult questions.” It’s a Bird, it’s a Grad Student, it’s Wondergrrl!  When she “went broke” getting her PhD at Berkeley, Delehanty took a job patrolling video game chat rooms using the moniker Wondergrrl. The Heart has its Reasons  As a young scholar considering what direction to take her career, she found herself drawn to the 17thcentury French polymath Blaise Pascal, who made a mark as a philosopher, mathematician, and scientist. “Pascal is a fascinating nexus for a lot of different disciplines and ideas,” she says. “I’ve always been obsessed with his thinking and

The Experiment  Delehanty’s teaching and scholarship have flourished at Reed. “I value teaching tremendously, but it was also very appealing that I could pace my research here,” she says. “Reed’s focus on teaching allows me the freedom to experiment with both my teaching and my research in ways that can be cutting edge, in ways you couldn’t do at a big university.” Literary Knowing in Neoclassical France evolved out of working with a student awarded a Ruby Grant from the college to fund faculty-student collaboration in research. The book she is currently writing, about the concept of disillusion in the early modern novel in France and Spain, also originated as a Ruby project with one of her students. Starting with Don Quixote, the book examines how interpolated stories-within-stories were used to critique social conventions.


photo by leah nash

december 2016  Reed magazine 29


Reediana Books. Music. Film.

Send us your work! Email reed.magazine@reed.edu

There Are No Birds in the Nests of Yesterday Roland Dahwen Wu ’13

​More meditation than documentary, Roland Dahwen Wu's short film There Are No Birds in the Nests of Yesterday centers on Lino, a master of a linguistic magic trick native to the Canary Islands called Silbo Gomero. ​El silbo, as it’s known to locals, is a whistled language—or, to be precise, a whistled version of Spanish— and it represents one iteration of an ancient technique innovated independently by speech communities around the world as a means of communicating over distances. In places where travel is arduous or shouting doesn’t carry, most any spoken language, from Turkish to Hmong to Yoruba, can be translated into whistles that carry through forests, across ravines, and up and down mountains. These whistled codes can be used for everything from asking for a water delivery to slipping under the radar of an occupying army. They’re also an art that, like thousands of other languages, is gradually dying with its users. ​“ We had to whistle for necessity, not pleasure,” Lino explains at one point. Grave and unsmiling, the grizzled Canarian seems to take it as his duty to pass on what he knows about el silbo. ​That this tuneful register sprang up

30 Reed magazine  december 2016

in a locale sharing its name with a bird is a poetic coincidence not lost on Roland. He intersperses his conversations with Lino with verse by the Canarian writer Pedro García Cabrera. One stanza reads: Whistle to me more, much more So that I may hear the first letter Of the dawn, spelling syllable by syllable The lines of my veins

​W histling is something Lino knows by feel; he’s not concerned with explaining how it works as much as relating stories from his life. When Roland asks Lino how the sounds are physically produced—how whistlers use their mouths and forefingers to generate the ear-splitting blasts he’s been demonstrating all day—he merely responds, without a trace of irony, “Like this,” and demonstrates again. ​El silbo’s origins are lost to history, and its future, like that of thousands of languages, is uncertain. But through the film’s melancholy ambiance, there are glimmers of hope: children are shown practicing their whistles as Lino talks, evidence that this ancient technique might persist even as modernity renders it obsolete. —KATELYN BEST ’13

I’ve Never Done This Before Claire Rudy Foster ’06

As a young Reed grad, Claire Rudy Foster believed literary stardom lay behind a locked door to which substance abuse was the key. Hoping to join the sodden continuum of F. Scott Fitzgerald, Hunter S. Thompson, Irvine Welsh, and William Faulkner, she drank, drugged, and wrote every day. When the manuscript for her novel numbered 200 pages, she was horrified to discover—in a rare moment of clarity—that it consisted of the same scene written over and over. Claire detoxed, rehabbed, and spent two years sober before writing again. She went on to earn an MFA from Pacific University and pen articles for Cleaver Magazine, Foreword Reviews, McSweeney’s, SmokeLong Quarterly, Vestal Review, and xoJane. She lives in Portland. The six stories in her debut short story collection, I’ve Never Done This Before, feature dabblers, addicts, troubled couples, petty criminals, beautiful women, and a pair of exbikers gone doughy in middle age. It begins with “Chinook,” the story of one couple—five years married, already drifting—on an errand from Portland to Coos Bay that ends in infidelity. The collection ends with “Doll,” about two disgruntled friends, blazed on skunk weed, on their way to ransack a UPS warehouse after hours. “For a minute, Tony doubted that Jamal was a real person,” Claire writes. “He was tempted to grab the wheel and spin them across the blacktop. Nothing could hurt them—Jamal’s face was a rubbery mask, grinning wide enough to swallow a grapefruit.” Though they make bad choices, Claire’s characters seem torn between regret and nostalgia. Set in the Pacific Northwest and gloomier Europe (Berlin, Prague), I’ve Never Done This Before is the hard-won fruit of its author’s labors—a testament to the bravery to battle addiction and the boldness to write fiction. —MEGAN LABRISE ’04


Leaving Lila

By Bill Baker ’50 (Galaxy 44 2016) Bill was six years old in 1931 when his mother left him at an orphanage, promising to return for him when she was settled in a new home. But years passed, and she virtually vanished from his life. At age 15, he unceremoniously “graduated” to a boys’ home, where orphans were forced to do hard labor and sometimes abused. Leaving Lila is the true story of Bill’s escape. With his meager possessions stuffed into a Boy Scout knapsack, he lived by wits and determination, on the road in search of his mother and a better life.

Thunderlord

By Deborah J. Ross ’68 (with Marion Zimmer Bradley) (DAW 2016) In Darkover’s past, the ages of chaos were a time of constant warfare, when powerful psychic weapons ravaged the land and slaughtered entire armies. Perhaps none was more dangerous and unpredictable than the gift to sense--and control--thunderstorms. Deborah, longtime friend of bestselling fantasy author Marion Zimmer Bradley, has coauthored several novels in Bradley’s critically acclaimed Darkover series, including The Children of Kings in 2014.

The Sacred Beasts

By Bev Jafek ’71 (Bedazzled Ink Publishing 2016) Bev has published over 40 short stories and novel excerpts, some of which have been translated into German, Italian, and Dutch. Now, in her first novel, she tells a fiercely feminist story of expatriate American gay women in their travels from Argentinian Patagonia to Spain, culminating in their active participation in a revolution in Barcelona and the creation of a new conception of liberated women: sacred beasts.

The Papers of Andrew Jackson, Volume X 1832 Edited by Dan Feller ’72

(University of Tennessee Press 2016)

Was Jackson a dangerous man with an uncontrolled temper? Or, was he a shrewd politician who faked outbursts of temper for political ends? He is both, according to Dan, an expert on Jackson and the editor of The Papers of Andrew Jackson, an ambitious project to publish Jackson's complete documentary

record. This volume includes more than 400 documents from his fourth presidential year in which he defeated Henry Clay and secured a second presidential term. It presents private memoranda, intimate family letters, drafts of official messages, and correspondence with government and military officers, diplomats, indians, political friends and foes, and ordinary citizens throughout the U.S. Beginning with Jackson's ongoing feud with Vice President John C. Calhoun, 1832 is eventful: an ongoing Indian removal campaign, a cholera epidemic, and Jackson's plans to destroy the Bank of the United States.

Arsenic with Austen

By Katherine Bolger Hyde ’78

(Minotaur Books 2016)

The protagonist, Emily Cavanaugh, starts out as a Reed professor of comparative literature, then moves to the Oregon coast when she inherits an estate from her great-aunt—who, she soon comes to suspect, was murdered. Emily uses her knowledge of Jane Austen’s works to help solve the case. Arsenic with Austen is the first novel in the Crime with the Classics series, each of which will focus on a different classic author.

The Nature of Soviet Power: An Arctic Environmental History By Andy Bruno ’03

(Cambridge University Press 2016)

During the 20th century, the Soviet Union transformed the Kola Peninsula into one of the most populated, industrialized, militarized, and polluted parts of the Arctic. This in-depth exploration of five industries in the region examines cultural perceptions of nature, plans for development, lived experiences, and modifications to the physical world. It shows that while Soviet power remade nature, nature also remade Soviet power.

Critical Information Literacy By Annie Downey [library 2012–]

(Library Juice Press 2016)

A book for library science scholars and policy makers. Academic librarians are exploring critical information literacy (CIL) in everincreasing numbers. While a smattering of journal articles and a small number of books have been published on the topic, the conversation around CIL has mostly taken place online, at conferences, in individual libraries, and in personal dialogues. This book explores that conversation and provides a snapshot of the current state of CIL.

Library Service Design: A LITA Guide to Holistic Assessment, Insight, and Improvement By Joe J. Marquez [library 2012–] and Annie Downey [library 2012–]

(Rowman & Littlefield 2016)

This book was born out of the experience of two Reed librarians tasked with redesigning the library website, a project which led to examining physical touchpoints and then how space was used throughout the library. “The user’s experience is more than just a single interaction with an interface.” After discovering service design and seeing how well it worked in their environment, as well as noting the lack of reliable and holistic methods for accessing services and resources, the authors decided to share this user-centered approach for creating and refining services. It promises to “alter the way you see your library and your users giving you greater insight into the assessment of the entire library.”

The Tango Machine: Musical Culture in the Age of Expediency By Prof. Morgan James Luker [music 2010–]

( University of Chicago Press 2016)

In Argentina, tango isn’t just the national music— it’s a national brand. But ask any contemporary Argentine if they ever really listen to it and chances are the answer is no: tango hasn’t been popular for more than fifty years. In this book, Prof. Luker explores that odd paradox by tracing the many ways Argentina draws upon tango as a resource for a wide array of economic, social, and cultural—that is to say, nonmusical—projects. In doing so, he illuminates new facets of all musical culture in an age of expediency when the value and meaning of the arts is less about the arts themselves and more about how they can be used. Luker traces the diverse and often contradictory ways tango is used in Argentina in activities ranging from state cultural policy making to its export abroad as a cultural emblem, from the expanding nonprofit arts sector to tango-themed urban renewal projects. He shows how projects such as these are not peripheral to an otherwise “real” tango—they are the absolutely central means by which the values of this musical culture are cultivated. By richly detailing the interdependence of aesthetic value and the regimes of cultural management, this book sheds light on core conceptual challenges facing critical music scholarship today. december 2016  Reed magazine 31


In Memoriam Remembering a Literary Luminary Prof. Thomas Gillcrist [English and humanities 1962–2002]

August 14, 2016 in Portland, Oregon

Known for his potent intellect, quiet leadership, good nature, and love of fast cars, Gillcrist researched and taught courses on William Faulkner, Toni Morrison, colonial and postcolonial novels, and the Bloomsbury group, defying the convention to choose one side of the Atlantic on which to focus his scholarship. In conferences, he saw himself as an adviser to students, not a critic. He was deeply admired by his colleagues and students. Gillcrist was born in 1939 in Boston and grew up in the South. His father supervised the construction of military training bases, and his family settled in Suffolk, Virginia. “He used to tell me what it was like to grow up in the home town of Mr. Peanut,” says Prof. Stefan Kapsch [poli sci 1974–2005], whose office neighbored Gillcrist’s for many years. “He had a great sense of humor; he loved to laugh.” Gillcrist earned a BA in English from Duke University and was a member of Phi Beta Kappa. He received a Danforth Fellowship to study at Harvard, where he earned his master’s. In 1956 he married Molly Meffert, a fellow Duke student, writer, and educator. They had two children, Andrew Myles and Amy Katherine. In his professional life, teaching was paramount for Gillcrist. He arrived at Reed in 1962 at a time when jobs were more plentiful for people with his qualifications. He selected Reed because of its emphasis on teaching and the humanities program, where (in addition to his service to the English department) he remained a dedicated and favorite Hum 110 conference leader throughout his career. Gillcrist genuinely enjoyed teaching and he advised, encouraged, and took interest in all students, not just the most promising ones. He wanted to enable students to find literature valuable in their own way, and when he was proud of a student’s accomplishment it was on the merit of the achievement, not because of what he had done. “He wanted people to enjoy learning, but he didn’t want people to settle for easy,” says Prof. Jay Dickson [1996–99, 2001–], who succeeded Gillcrist in the English department. Treva Adams ’99 commented, “I remember well his gentle way of pushing me to explore new perspectives. I always walked away from our conversations with new—and

sometimes surprising—knowledge, his droll humor coming to the fore. I’m incredibly grateful to have known him.” Gillcrist never took the easy way out or his job for granted. He did not rely on old notes for material he had previously taught, but reread and rethought. His neighbors recall that at night his study light—under which he spent many hours preparing lectures, class notes, and penning comments on student papers— was always the last light in the neighborhood still on. An example of his formidable intellect and painstaking work, his Hum 110 lectures were legendary, impressing the famously tough crowd of students and faculty assembled in the lecture hall. Prof. Dickson said, “One lecture I will always remember was on Euripides, and was so gorgeously constructed that it withheld its actual thesis argument until the final sentence of the entire lecture, at which point the entire structure fitted perfectly into place like an elegantly constructed puzzlebox. The junior faculty up in the balcony were all astonished, but when I congratulated Tom afterwards, he responded with his usual gracious modesty and mordant sense of humor.” When Gillcrist retired, he was asked to prepare five of his lectures for publication. Tom had a distinct manner of speaking, which Dickson described as “one part Virginia Tidewater accent, one part Old Harvard, one part Johnsonian melancholia (for though he was a cheerful man at work, he would sigh quite a bit and seem to have his thoughts elsewhere).” He had a wide-ranging curiosity and an encyclopedic knowledge of literature, composers, classical singers, conductors, and automobiles. In addition to his immeasurable work as a mentor to students, Gillcrist was a distinguished scholar. He was a Woodrow Wilson Fellow, a Danforth Graduate Fellow, and was awarded a Fulbright lectureship to Kyonghee Hee University in Seoul, followed by a U.S. government-sponsored lecture tour in Korea, Japan, and Southeast Asia. After he retired he led a faculty book club, tackling difficult works such as Proust’s In Search of Lost Time. Members included Tom’s wife Molly, Paul Bragdon [president 1971–88]

Distinguished scholar, inspiring teacher.

and Nancy Bragdon, Frank Gwilliam [biology 1957–96] and Marjorie Gwilliam, Tom Dunne [chemistry 1963–95], Marshall Cronyn [chemistry 1952–1989], and Jay Dickson. “We all listened well to each other, and learned from one another,” says Dickson. “But I think what was most remarkable for me about that decade-plus when Tom was our leader was how much we learned from him. I am very lucky in that my literary education did not stop at the end of graduate school, for I feel I had one more great teacher and mentor who shared with us not simply his great love for fine literature, but his generosity in discussion, his kindness and praise, his surprising insights and analogies and allusions, and his merry spirits.” Over the course of his career, Gillcrist focused on teaching rather than publication, and retirement afforded him the opportunity to work on his research. He took on projects such as serving as guest editor of a Nineteenth-Century Prose issue featuring Thomas Macaulay. Retirement also afforded him time to spend with his grandchildren. Gillcrist famously maintained, “Having grandchildren is the one thing in life that’s not overrated.” Another who was not overrated is Tom Gillcrist. —KATIE PELLETIER ’03 december 2016  Reed magazine 37


Saw Death Camp Twice: As Prisoner and as Liberator PHOTO BY EMILY FITZGERALD

Frank Wesley ’50 May 26, 2016, in Portland.

Psychologist, author, professor, and musician, Frank Wesley led an outsized life punctuated by remarkable coincidences. Perhaps most notably, he was imprisoned by the Nazis at the Buchenwald concentration camp, escaped to the U.S., then returned seven years later to liberate the same camp where he was once a prisoner. A sense of wonder governed Frank’s life, evidenced by his enthusiasm for music, nature, ideas, animals, and especially young people. He was an engaging lecturer and enjoyed a teaching career that spanned more than 50 years. Born Franz Wolfsohn in Breslau to a prosperous Jewish couple, Frank grew up on a farm in Silesia. As the Nazis rose to power, he watched as windows of synagogues and Jewish shops were shattered under a barrage of projectiles flung by Nazi troops in what would be known as Kristallnacht—the Night of Broken Glass. He considered making a run for the border, but those who were caught were hanged at a special gallows reserved for traitors. Violence reigned in the streets until Minister of Propaganda Joseph Goebbels called for an end to the pogrom that he had instigated and announced that the Jews would be evacuated from the cities for “special protection.” In 1937, when Frank was 20 years old, he was arrested in the middle of the night. He was the first one in the truck that drove over bumpy roads to Buchenwald. Crowning its big iron gates were the words, Jedem das Seine (“Everyone gets what he deserves”). The camp’s policy was extermination through labor. Between 1937 and 1945, an estimated 56,000 prisoners perished there from starvation, sickness, medical experimentation, fatigue, and execution. “It was a big space with bright lights all over,” he remembered. “There were 10 or 20 people that were shaving hair. I learned to show no emotion. It was important to be useful and not a threat. These were survival skills.” His first weeks in the camp he was chained to hundreds of other men, trudging endlessly to and from the quarry, hauling rocks by hand to build the autobahn from Dresden to Berlin. Prisoners were given half a pound of bread each weekday and thin, salty soup on weekends, when the water was turned off. Unaccustomed to manual labor, he struggled under the inhuman working conditions. “If our stones weren’t large enough, we were attacked and beaten by the SS officers,” he remembered. “I saw men shoved into the pile where we were dropping our stones—buried alive in the rubble because they were too weak to move.” Prior to the implementation of the Final Solution, inmates were sometimes allowed 38 Reed magazine  december 2016

Frank Wesley ’50 cultivated a sense of wonder, happiness, and took up the saxophone in his 70s.

to leave the camp temporarily. Shortly after Christmas, Frank and his father were miraculously given a three-day pass. “It was the happiest day of my life,” he said. “I decided at that moment never to be angry again.” Escaping Germany, however, was not easily done. The authorities had confiscated everything he owned and the rigors of Buchenwald had left him horribly malnourished (he lost 40 pounds in the camp). Nonetheless, Frank managed to slip across the border with Belgium, where he obtained a U.S. visa. Arriving stateside, Frank worked a series of jobs over the next several years, including a stint in the Portland shipyards. He gained his U.S. citizenship and enlisted with the Army in 1944 to defeat Hitler. Frank joined the 21st Infantry Division of the Baltimore National Guard and was shipped to the European front. In an astonishing twist of fate, he was assigned as a liaison to the troops being sent to liberate Buchenwald, the very camp he had suffered in seven years before. When the troops marched through the iron gates on April 11, 1945, they witnessed the gruesome sight of corpses heaped in rows. “The Nazis had run out of petrol, so there was no way to dispose of the bodies,” Frank said. “They were piled five high and three deep all around. Some were even still alive, but there was nothing we could do.” Frank entered Reed in 1947 as one of only five psychology majors. Undaunted by his status as an older student (he was 29), he dove into college life and made many friends. After graduating from Reed, he earned a doctorate in psychology from Washington State and began

a long teaching career. He was a full professor at Portland State University and volunteered at the school’s “Storefront University,” a project designed to promote education for residents of Portland’s ghettoes during the 1960s. Frank wrote books on child development, sex-role behavior, and the history of the Holocaust. He was an avid beekeeper, planted hundreds of trees, and mastered a thriving garden. In his 70s, he took up the saxophone and loved to play jazz; he could often be spotted strolling up and down Portland’s Hawthorne neighborhood. In 2015, filmmaker David Bee made a documentary about him titled Frank’s Song. He continued to live in the moment, full of compassion and forgiveness, always choosing happiness over anger. His former wife, Mary Rose, and children Claire and Walter survive Frank.

We welcome your contributions on behalf of alumni, faculty, staff, and friends of the Reed College. Please send obituaries and remembrances to us by email (reed.magazine@reed.edu) or by mail to Reed magazine, 3203 SE Woodstock Blvd, Portland OR 97202. Photos are welcome, as are digital images at 300 dpi. In Memoriam is now online: www.reed.edu/reed_magazine


Virginia Paris Campbell ’34

August 20, 2016, in Lake Oswego, Oregon, at the age of 105.

Long considered the First Lady of Lake Oswego, Virginia was a tireless champion for its arts organizations and civic institutions for more than six decades. One of the original organizers of the Lake Oswego Festival of the Arts, she was a founding member of the Friends of the Lake Oswego Public Library and helped craft policies that gave direction to the Lakewood Center for the Arts. “Virginia never hesitated to speak up and offer support and leadership for the arts, civic improvements, and education,” said Andrew Edwards, Lakewood’s executive director. “She was an incredible woman of intellect, passion, and strength.” Virginia’s family moved to Portland from Indiana six weeks after she was born. When it came time for college, she began studying architecture at the University of Oregon. Her mother became ill, and Virginia moved home and spent a year apprenticing with the architectural firm of Johnson, Wallwork and Johnston, and then studied for a year at the University of Washington. She loved architecture, but in the throes of the Great Depression when few were building, it appeared to be a dead-end profession. Transferring to Reed, she changed her major to literature, writing her thesis, The Function of Restoration Comedy 1660–1700, with Prof. Barry Cerf [English 1921–48]. In abnormal and genetic psychology class she met her future husband, Colin Herald Campbell ’33. “It was a good place to meet,” she later observed. “There’s never any problem talking about any subject after you’ve been through that kind of course.” The romance blossomed during shared rides to school in the rumble seat of the Pontiac roadster owned by Jack Lowe ’33. At one Reed dance, Herald filled all the lines in Virginia’s dance program (it was customary for young men to reserve specific dances) with a 17-word declaration: “Queer, isn’t it, that it should take me seventeen lines to tell you that I love you?” They married in 1935. “I suppose I may have expected to teach or something after I graduated,” she said, “but I married instead. It wasn’t taken for granted that you were going to have a profession, something that you would do other than be a wife and mother. I certainly never did anything careerwise, but I don’t feel I’ve been deprived, either. It wasn’t so easy. You had to buy your food and cook it. It wasn’t prepared in a package that you could just stick in the microwave. You sewed your clothes and did a lot more things in the house. It was a job.” Virginia once described herself as a closet poet, a frustrated architecture lover, a past chorister, an origami hobbyist, and a confirmed and perennial volunteer. She sang with her husband in the Portland Symphonic Choir and taught puppetry and origami to local youths, but she would be defined by her roles as the

consummate community activist and volunteer. In 1951, the Campbells moved to Lake Oswego with their three daughters and became instrumental in the development of the city’s land-use regulations and natural resource planning. Herald served as mayor from 1979 to 1985. Virginia was an integral part of a study of metropolitan government that led to the formation of the regional governmental body Metro. When the former Lakewood School was acquired in 1979 and repurposed as a community arts center, she helped craft the mission for the Lakewood Center for the Arts. From 1963 to 1984 she served as general chairman of the Annual Lake Oswego Festival of the Arts, later became special exhibits chairman, and was finally elected honorary director of the center. Virginia was also the “go-to person” for Lake Oswego at the League of Women Voters Clackamas County, and explained, “Although I was not a suffragette, I just think women should be encouraged to raise their voices.” The couple played key roles in the Oswego Heritage Council, the Lake Oswego Chamber of Commerce, the Lake Oswego Adult Community Center, the Lake Oswego Rotary Club, and Lake Grove Presbyterian Church. In 1983, they were the first couple to win the Community Leader of the Year award, given by the Lake Oswego Chamber of Commerce. At that time, the Lake Oswego Review observed, “The Campbells have given considerable time and effort to the community and done so with class, humor and grace.” The Lifetime Achievement Award was later conferred on them, and in 1998 the Campbells were recognized for their decades of community involvement when the town named a one-acre native plant garden on Iron Mountain the Campbell Native Garden. When glaucoma debilitated her vision, Virginia used an iPad to read, compose poetry, and communicate because it allowed her to enlarge the type. A YouTube video of her using the device when she was 100 years old has been watched more than 600,000 times. “Virginia was truly remarkable,” said Bill Baars, director of the Lake Oswego Public Library. “She was selfless and kept herself focused on what was best for the community now—and into the future.” Herald died in 2009 at the age of 98. Her three daughters, Susanna Campbell-Kuo, Corrina Campbell-Sack, and Virginia Campbell-Adelsheim survive Virginia.

Mitchell Heinemann Jr. ’41 July 4, 2016, in Portland.

When Mitchell grew up in the Laurelhurst neighborhood of Portland, it was home to many of the founding, principal officers of the Jantzen Knitting Mills, including his father. He graduated from Benson Polytechnic and attended both the Oregon State University and the University of Portland before transferring to Reed, where he majored in biology, writing his thesis, Various

Factors Affecting the Acetylcholine Inhibition of the Heart of Ariolimax Columbianus, with Prof. Demorest Davenport [biology 1938–44]. He graduated a doctor of medicine from the Oregon Medical School (now Oregon Health & Science University). After serving an internship at the Multnomah County Hospital, he entered the armed services and was chief of the laboratory, chief of surgical service, and chief of the medical service at Camp McQuaide, California. Mitchell returned to Oregon in 1947 and entered general practice in Milton-Freewater, but after working for several years decided he wanted to specialize in the field of pathology. He spent the next four years in various hospital residencies in Portland, New York, and San Diego. Certified in the specialties of anatomical and clinical pathology, his first position was as associate pathologist at Good Samaritan Hospital in Portland, where he became director of the laboratory. He retired from active practice in 1969 and with his family moved to Spain for a year and a half, traveling all over Europe. Mitchell loved carpentry and built or remodeled many houses. His wife, Elaine, survives him, as do his children, Mitchell Heinemann III, Shirley Heinemann, Ronald Heinemann, Lamont Wilson, Bradley Wallingford, Deborah Wiley, Joseph Heinemann, and Julie Strader.

Robert E. Clark AMP ’44

November 12, 2015, in Sherrills Ford, North Carolina.

Born in Hennepin County, Minnesota, Robert served in the U.S. Army Air Corps during World War II and in the U.S. Air Force during the Korean War. He attended Reed in the Army pre-meteorology program from 1943–44 and earned a bachelor’s degree in chemical engineering from the University of Minnesota in 1949, followed by a master’s in engineering from UCLA in 1957. He was a chemical engineer and a manager of process engineering specializing in the pressure-sensitive tape industry, and worked for 13 years at what is now Shurtape. Other companies he worked for include 3M, Corn Belt Adhesives, Avery International, Compac International, and Mactac. He is survived by Juanita Peugh Clark, his wife of 55 years, and his children, Karen Nutter, Kathi Baucom, Paul Clark, and Brian Clark.

Marjorie Foster Saltzman ’44 May 28, 2016, in Portland.

A pioneer in the field of family planning, Marjorie volunteered at Planned Parenthood for longer than any other person in America, teaching thousands of teenagers about birth control, family planning, and sexual health. december 2016  Reed magazine 39


In Memoriam Mar jor ie considered overpopulation the world’s most pressing problem, and she wanted every pregnancy in Portland to be a planned one. In her straightforward manner, she delivered the unvarnished facts. Even sniggering boys in the classrooms snapped to attention when she explained Oregon’s laws on paternity testing and 18 years of child support payments. “As Saltzman proceeds, the class settles, the buzz of nervous excitement and embarrassed laughter subsiding into rapt attention,” columnist Jonathan Nicholas of the Oregonian wrote in 1989. “By the time she reaches for her packet of condoms, you could hear a pin drop.” Margie grew up in Sandpoint, Idaho, the middle of three sisters, in a close-knit family. But they were the only Jewish family in town, and when her daughters became teenagers Mrs. Foster announced, “That’s it. We’re getting out of Sandpoint. I want my daughters to marry Jewish boys.” The family moved to Portland in 1938, and the girls were enrolled at Lincoln High School. Marjorie attended Reed for a year before transferring to the University of Washington, where she studied sociology and psychology. In 1942, she met Jack Saltzman, who had just graduated from the University of Oregon and was soon to be an officer in the Coast Guard. They got married the next year; Jack’s first assignment took them to San Francisco, where Marjorie worked for Bank of America. After World War II, the couple moved back to Portland and raised four children. Marjorie was active with many different organizations, including Temple Beth Israel, the League of Women Voters, the National Council of Jewish Women, and the Donald E. Long Home for juvenile offenders. Volunteering led to what would become her life’s passion, Planned Parenthood. In 1969, she began advocating for women’s reproductive rights. She was a board member and a donor at Planned Parenthood, but her greatest contribution was as an educational volunteer, which she did for more than 40 years, going into classrooms, shelters, and prisons to teach family planning and sexual health. In 2003, she was honored with the Margaret Sanger Award as Planned Parenthood’s longestterm volunteer in the nation. “Marjorie has been described as delightful, unflappable, enlightening, and straight up awesome by generations of teenagers and educators.” Her efforts were commemorated when the Marjorie Saltzman Education Center opened at the Planned Parenthood Columbia Willamette location in 2010. The education center holds many 40 Reed magazine  december 2016

of the training materials Marjorie developed. However, the recognition that meant the most to her came from the students themselves. A typical response was expressed in a note that stated: “Nobody has ever talked to me about this. You made it so easy to ask questions. Thank you for telling me things that will keep me from making mistakes. Know that you are making a difference.” She lived to see her name added to the Walk of the Heroines at Portland State University, and Elders In Action awarded her the Health and Education Silver Award. Her children, Jeff Saltzman, Barbara Lovre, Dan Saltzman, and Julie Leuvrey, survive her.

Jeanne Creech Bush ’45

August 8, 2016, in Walnut Creek, California.

After graduating from the Anna Head School (now Head-Royce School) in Oakland, California, Jeanne boarded a train from Berkeley for Portland. She majored in psychology at Reed and remembered those three years as a wonderful adventure, replete with independent living, new friends, and close contact with faculty. “Unfortunately,” she said, “my immaturity prevented me from talking advantage of all that Reed has to offer.” She returned to the Bay Area to pursue her passion for travel. At 5' 10'' she was too tall to be a flight attendant in 1948, so she joined the management team in the United Airlines office in Union Square. This was the beginning of a life of travel and adventure. She met Air Force Lt. Robert Bush of Yuba City, who was home on leave, having been stationed in Europe following World War II. His flying career would take him back to Europe, but they managed to fit a wedding in prior to his leaving in May 1952. Their first home was in Tucson, Arizona, where Robert was a pilot at Davis-Monthan Air Force Base. Here their two children, Robert and Lesle, were born. Following a successful career in the Air Force, Bob and Jeanne returned to the Bay Area. Jeanne finished her bachelor’s degree in political science at Whittier College in 1971 and managed a travel business. The couple continued their quest for adventure, joining safaris, hot-air ballooning through France, sailing down the Yangtze, and running with the bulls in Pamplona. They considered London their second home, and when both of their children began to work for airlines, they could rarely be found at home. After retiring, they settled in Walnut Creek to enjoy life nearer their children. Jeanne is survived by her daughter, Lesle Bush Thomas, and her brother, John W. Creech.

Francisca Winston Erickson ’45 May 4, 2016, in Seattle.

Francisca grew up in in Minneapolis. Her father died when she was five, but had established generous trust funds for his children. Her stepfather

was acquainted with some of Reed’s founding trustees and encouraged her to attend the college. At the time, Francisca said, it was one of the few institutions that took seriously women wanting to major in chemistry or math. Reed became her intellectual and academic home, where she was treated with respect. The war made the experience unusual; she had to accelerate her studies and the men gradually disappeared from campus. Her thesis, The Preparation and Oxidation of i-Cholesteryl-Oxyacetic and i-Cholesteryloxy-p-Benzoic Acids, was written with Prof. Leland Pence [chemistry 1939‑45] advising. The sole woman in her graduating chemistry class, she completed her degree in three years while gaining an abiding affection for her alma mater. While working for Shell Oil Company, Francisca met her husband, O. Alfred Erickson, who was from Sweden. Company policy forbade spouses from working together, so she retired to raise a family. Francisca loved to fish, travel, and attend opera. She generously supported Reed and in 2002 established the Francisca W. Erickson Scholarship, awarded to Reed science majors with financial need with preference to chemistry majors. Her three children, Paul, John, and Francisca Ferro, survive her.

David Williams ’45

May 14, 2015, in Colorado Springs, Colorado.

Born in Portland to Ira and Jessie Williams, David followed in the footsteps of his brother, Lloyd Williams ’35, and sister, Rhoda Lewis ’38, to study at Reed. After gaining his degree in physics, he began his career at Inyokern, California. He served in the U.S. Army, stationed first in Georgia and then at Los Alamos, New Mexico. He moved to Albuquerque in the late 1940s, where he worked as a research physicist at Sandia Base and met his wife of 63 years, Hazel Pierce. In 1960, the family moved to Colorado Springs, where David worked as a physicist and vice president at Kaman Sciences. The work he did was instrumental in the defense of our country. His wife survives him, as do his children, Dana Lamb and Kirsten Vohland.

Warren Brune ’47

May 11, 2016, in Lake Oswego, Oregon.

Born in Eustis, Nebraska, to Sophie and Samuel Brune, Warren moved to Portland after graduating from high school. He served as a second lieutenant in the U.S. Army Air Corps as a navigator during WWII, and attended Reed during the summer of 1946 and the 1946/47 academic year. He then worked in the lumber business for several firms in the Willamette Valley, spending the majority of his career with Chapman Lumber. In 1960, he married Dorothy Mae Mosser, and they had a daughter, Betsy. An avid and accomplished golfer, Warren was a member of the Portland Golf Club for 59 years, winning several championships and other accolades. As a member of the Lake Oswego United Methodist


Church, he helped relocate Vietnamese families after the war and helped with Operation Nightwatch, a shelter for homeless persons in Portland. A longtime member of the Lake Oswego Adult Community Center, he helped establish the computer center and worked as a tutor and administrator for the computer center classes. The city of Lake Oswego honored him with an Unsung Hero Award in 2003 for that work. His wife and daughter survive him.

build campfires, hear about their Scandinavian family history, and know the meaning of uff da (oops). Joyce was preceded in death by Dick, but made new friends at the retirement home in Anacortes they had moved into a few years earlier, and she was able to get monthly trips for Swedish pancakes added to their regular outings. She is survived by her son, Craig Nelson, and daughter, Janis Ostman.

Max Bettman ’48

September 2, 2016, in Hayden Lake, Idaho, from multiple myeloma.

Max wrote his chemistry thesis at Reed, A Critical Review of the Atomic Weights with Prof. Arthur Scott [chemistry 1923‑79] advising. He received a PhD from Caltech in 1952 and worked as a research scientist at Ford Motor Company. He was married to the late Dorothy Bettman and is survived by his son Elliott.

When Mary Alice started school, her mother created the spelling “Marialys” to ensure her daughter was called by both names. She was born on a small farm in Idaho. An excellent student, Mary Alice was also a fine musician, playing the flute, piccolo, and violin in the high school band and orchestra. During summer vacation, after high school, she worked at the city airport located near her home and took flying lessons to earn her pilot’s license. In 1946, she met Cecil Hathaway, and they were married in 1950. She attended Reed for a year and a half before completing a secretarial studies program at Kinman Business University in Spokane, Washington. She later completed her education at the University of Idaho, earning a bachelor’s degree in office management in 1971. When her sons were out of high school, she resumed her career, working the last 15 years with the legal firm of Bielenberg, Anderson, and Walker in Moscow. Her proudest achievement was her four sons; many hours were spent and many miles traveled serving their involvement in sports. Her husband of 66 years, Cecil, and three sons, Curt, Brent, and Shawn, survive her.

December 22, 2015. in Southfield, Michigan.

Joyce Holen Nelson ’50

March 31, 2016, in Anacortes, Washington.

Born in Tacoma, Washington, Joyce met Richard Nelson ’50 at Reed; they married in 1949. They had a daughter, Janis, and a son, Craig. The family moved from Bellevue, Washington, to Rock Hill, South Carolina, in 1960 for Dick’s new job. Joyce had been a mountaineer and skier and she later used those skills to teach camping in the Appalachians to Jan’s Girl Scout troop. She had been taught to always leave the trail better than she found it and followed that philosophy throughout life—volunteering at Grace Lutheran Church, serving as president of the League of Women Voters, volunteering with the York County Museum, and with hospice, and helping the newly arrived Vietnamese immigrants of the 1970s learn English and American customs to ease their transition to a new life. In the days before cell phones, she had a 20-foot cord on her phone handset so she could make the phone calls for her projects while doing housework. She and Dick were strong supporters of American Red Cross Disaster Relief, not only volunteering but engaging many of their friends to serve in the organization. After retiring, the couple moved back to the Northwest in 1987 and spent time traveling, often with friends, to the Caribbean Islands, Africa, South America, Norway, England, Iceland, and China. The return to the Northwest allowed Joyce to renew visits with friends she had made in elementary school. Joyce always brought the family back together for summers at her log cabin in British Columbia, and she and Dick made sure the grandchildren all learned to fish, hike,

Mary Alice Carlson Hathaway ’51

Allahverdi Farmanfarmaian ’52 August 27, 2016, in Princeton, New Jersey.

Known to his friends as Verdi, Allahverdi was born a prince in Iran—a descendent of the Qajar dynasty, which ruled Persia from 1785 to 1925. His father was governor of Tehran and Iran’s vice minister of education and pushed his sons to attend college in the United States. In 1948, Verdi started at a small Catholic college in New York, and then transferred to Stanford, a name he recognized from Iran. His younger brother, Tari Farmanfarmaian ’54, was accepted at Reed on the condition that he completed some summer courses. In 1950, Verdi visited to support his brother, fell in love with Reed and Oregon, and stayed. He was proud of his Reed education, saying that it taught him to think and broadened his intellect, giving him experiences outside of technical chemistry.

“I learned more out of class than I did in class,” he said. “I was knocked about and shaped by the ever-present dialectical argument and discourse, Socratic, spiritual, or Marxist. In the coffee shop, the commons, the dorms, or on the lawn, you could not open your mouth on any subject without being challenged. Many years later I came across the term ‘total immersion’ and was struck how aptly it described my learning environment at Reed.” Verdi earned a master’s degree and a doctorate in biological sciences from Stanford, where his research focused on marine physiology. Following postdoctoral work at UC Berkeley, he was invited to teach and do research at Woods Hole, Massachusetts. In 1961, he returned to Iran, where he taught at Shiraz Medical School. Unnerved by the corruption and ruthlessness of Shah Mohammad Reza Pahlavi’s regime, he departed Iran in 1967. Verdi credited the intellectual confidence he gained at Reed with his ability to emotionally survive the reforms launched by the Shah to weaken the classes opposing his rule. He was hired as a visiting professor at Princeton University and then spent 30 years at Rutgers University as a professor of physiology, retiring on the first day of the new millennium. During his academic career, he studied membrane physiology, authoring numerous peer-reviewed publications and receiving many prestigious grant awards for his research. Verdi took great pride in his role as mentor and teacher to undergraduate and graduate students at Rutgers. An intellectual who loved literature, poetry, and the arts, Verdi was an avid traveler, gentleman farmer, and naturalist who loved to mountain climb and canoe. He was a longtime patron of many causes, including open-space preservation, Native American youth programs, wildlife, and the arts. Devoted to birds, he kept his feeders filled with gourmet bird food, and his human friends could always rely on him for chocolate. Predeceased by his wife of 50 years, Dr. Parvin Saidi, he is survived by his daughters, Lara Farmanfarmaian Terry and Kimya Farmanfarmaian Harris.

John M. Carlson ’53

July 5, 2016, in Gig Harbor, Washington, pneumonia and congestive heart failure.

John spent much of his childhood on his parents’ thoroughbred horse-breeding farm on the Machias River in Snohomish, Washington. After graduating from Everett High School, he attended Reed, later receiving his degree from Western Washington University. He volunteered in the Army and worked on Air Force communications in the mid-’50s. John worked for both DuBois Chemicals and the Boeing Company before changing paths and pursuing a career as a real estate agent in the Seattle area. His faith was important to him, and John december 2016  Reed magazine 41


In Memoriam was active in his church; loved people, sailing, and seagulls; and was well known for big hugs and a great sense of humor. He worked hard to be whatever people needed whenever they needed it. He helped promote the Paul Harris Society, committed to the eradication of polio around the world, and with his wife, Jan, ministered to scores of young people. After 30 years in Olympia, the couple moved to Gig Harbor to be nearer to family. His wife and his children Merrilee Lyle, Deanna Clark, and Dave Carlson survive him.

Pauline Ratner Foster ’55

July 30, 2016, in Rancho Santa Fe, California, of a stroke.

Pauline defined her life by giving. She donated millions of dollars to a variety of San Diego institutions, especially ones reflecting her passions for education, art, and health care. She served on the boards of numerous community organizations, and was the first woman president of the United Way, the United Jewish Federation, and the Jewish Community Foundation. “Pauline’s quiet strength and caring support touched the hearts and changed the lives of people throughout our community,” said Hugh Davies, director and CEO of the Museum of Contemporary Art San Diego. Her lifelong interest in the arts was reflected at the museum, where she served on the board, funded new galleries, and donated a 25,000-square-foot storage facility for the museum’s collection. Pauline also made significant contributions of time, vision, and resources to UC San Diego, ensuring excellent cancer care for her fellow San Diegans by giving $7.5 million to establish the Pauline and Stanley Foster Pavilion for Cancer Care. UCSD also benefited from her largesse with a $5 million endowed chair at the Rady School of Management and the establishment of the Foster MBA Fellowship Fund. Robert Sullivan, dean of the Rady School, said Pauline cared deeply about the students, funding more than 75 fellowships, listening to presentations about their entrepreneurial projects, and attending graduation every year. “Pauline was so interested in the potential and 42 Reed magazine  december 2016

the potential impact of the students,” he said. “She was interested in the work they were doing that would transform lives and communities.” Her father, Abraham Ratner, built the Ratner Clothing Corp. into the largest manufacturer of men’s clothing west of the Mississippi. Raised in the affluent California community of Kensington, Pauline attended Reed for a year and a half before leaving to marry Stanley E. Foster in 1953. Stanley ran a furniture store and relatives had arranged a blind date with him. After the marriage, he began working for her father’s clothing business, becoming president in 1970. After purchasing the Hang Ten sportswear line for $3 million, he turned it into a $200 million retail juggernaut while Pauline raised their three daughters at the family home in Point Loma. After selling Hang Ten, Stanley diversified the company into real estate and other investments, and by the 1980s the couple had shifted their attention to community affairs and philanthropy. For Pauline, it was the continuation of a family tradition. “You learned that sharing with other people is very gratifying,” she said. She served on the boards of the UC San Diego Foundation, the La Jolla Playhouse, the Sanford Burnham Prebys Medical Discovery Institute, and the National Council of Jewish Federations and Welfare Funds. Other major donations went to the Pauline Foster Teen Center at the San Diego Central Library and the Stanley Foster School of Engineering, Innovation and Design at Kearny High. In 1989, Pauline was declared “Woman of the Year” by the California State Legislature, and in 1998 given the United Way’s Alexis de Tocqueville Award to honor her extraordinary leadership and service in the community. Survivors include her daughters, Marcia Hazin, Lisa Foster, and Karen Silberman.

offered her a job writing about business. Her syndicated column, “Minding Your Own Business,” explained business matters to a lay audience and appeared in the Post, the Chicago Daily News, and the Dallas Morning News. In Dallas, Pat met her husband, Johnston Livingston, who was born in Fuzhou, China, and was an honors graduate of Yale University and Harvard Business School. They married in 1965; she brought a typewriter along on their honeymoon. They moved to Denver in 1971, where she became the financial vice president for their holding company, Enmark Corp., and its two subsidiaries. From 1977 to 2014, she served as president and CEO of their company Construction Technology Inc. She was a member of the board of trustees for Colorado Women’s College prior to its merger with the University of Denver. In 1982, Pat was elected to the university’s governing board and represented it on the Social Science Foundation board. She was a loyal patron of the arts with a particular interest in the Colorado Symphony, the Denver Botanic Gardens, and the Central City Opera. Four children and seven grandchildren survive her.

Patricia Karolchuck Livingston ’55 July 23, 2016, in Denver, Colorado, of complications from a car accident.

Born in Manila, the Philippines, Pat studied experimental psychology at Reed and wrote her thesis, The Use of the N Achievement Motivation Measure in Predicting Learning with Prof. Leonard Worell [psycholog y 1954–56]. “Attending and graduating from Reed was the most important event in my life,” she once said, “other than meeting my husband.” After graduating, she worked as a statistical accountant for the U.S. Air Force in MainzKastel, Germany, and for the Office Equipment Manufacturers Institute in Washington, D.C. While working as a consultant analyzing a paper company, she met a New York Post editor who

David Digby ’57

July 6, 2016, in Atlanta, Georgia.

Born in St. Louis, Missouri, David transferred into Reed as a junior, having served three years in the U.S. Army Signal Corps during the Korean War. He had previously started college at UC Berkeley. At Reed, he wrote his thesis, A Symbolic Representation of Hilbert’s Axioms of Plane Geometry, with Prof. Lloyd Williams [math 1947‑81]. After graduating, he taught high school math for a year and then began graduate school in math at Oregon State University. During this time he kept in touch with Prof. John Hancock [chemistry 1955‑89], who asked him to write a computer program for his research on dodecahedrane, a hydrocarbon that featured 20 carbon atoms in the shape of a dodecahedron (one of the five Platonic solids), with a hydrogen atom bonded to each carbon atom.


“John had been wondering what would happen if some of the hydrogen atoms on this hypothetical molecule were replaced with chlorine atoms, which led to the question: ‘How many different ways are there to do this?’” David remembered. It would be several years before Reed purchased its first commercial computer, an IBM 1620 installed in the basement of Eliot Hall. So David wrote a program to enumerate the answer on OSU’s gigantic vacuum-tube ALWAC computer, resulting in a printout of 17,000 unique solutions. This led to another question: “What if I make one of these compounds, and the value I find for it is not on the list?” That called for another program to rotate the value he found into the corresponding one in the list. The program took only a few seconds to run, but the problem was Reed had no computer. “John came up with a fiendish idea,” David recalled. “Pinball was then illegal, and the county sheriff had a warehouse full of confiscated machines. He couldn’t sell them, but he could donate them in the name of science. Pinball machines are full of relays, and John suspected we could make a primitive computer out of them.” David designed and programmed the machine, which Reed students put together. Hancock named it DIMWIT, for Dodecahedrane Isomer Machine with Internal Translation. It took about five minutes to get an answer from DIMWIT, and it was correct only 10% of the time. But it turned out the telephone company was upgrading some of its machinery and was willing to give Reed a few tons of older parts. The telephone relays proved much more reliable than pinball relays, and DIMWIT-II got the correct answer 90% of the time. The quest for dodecahedrane was ultimately completed in 1982 by a team at Ohio State University. But David remained proud of DIMWIT I and II. He worked as an apprentice electronic engineer at Tektronix in Beaverton, Oregon, and then taught high school mathematics in Rochester, Washington. In the mid-’60s, he was an instructor in mathematics and computer science at Oregon State University. By 1966, he was a senior development engineer at Goodyear Aerospace Corp. in Akron, Ohio. He wrote CPU microcode for a new computer at Scientific Controls in Dallas, Texas; worked on the software design team at Lockheed Electronics; and from 1971–1985 was a computer hardware architect for Martin Marietta Aerospace in Orlando, Florida. He went on to become principal design and development engineer at Honeywell Avionics. David decided to return to a long-term interest in molecular genetics. (Thirty years before, he had crossbred coat color and varieties in the flock of hamsters his first wife was

selling to pet stores.) In 1996, at the age of 66, David received his PhD in genetics and molecular biology from Emory University in Atlanta. He worked at Clark Atlanta University for 10 years and then taught biology online. After David retired in his eighties, he spent his time doing genealogy research and writing. He was a member of the Atlanta Writers Club and Genealogy Study Group. A member of MENSA, he loved photography and traveling. During his college years, David discovered a love of international folk dance, which branched out to English country and contra dance. Wherever he moved or traveled to, he connected with dancers. He was a founding member of the Florida Folk Dance Council and in 1971 founded a folk dance troupe in Orlando, which still thrives. He met his wife, Dorothy Wallace Archer, at an English country dance in 1989, and married her after an engagement of more than 14 years. She survives him, as do his three children by his first wife, Katharine Kibler: Michael Digby, Carolyn Conahan ’83, and Barbara McKinney; his sister, Marge Zylstra, and his brother, Bob Digby. David donated his body to science at Emory University School of Medicine.

Timothy Loeb ’57 May 31, 2016, in Toledo, Ohio.

Born in Oakland, California, to Edwin and Lisl Loeb, Tim wrote his thesis, Reactions of Apocynol with Prof. Marsh Cronyn ’40 [chemistry 1952‑89]. He earned his doctorate in biology from Rockefeller University. He taught biology for several years in Cali, Colombia, where he and his first wife, Mary, also founded the Instituto Tobias Emanuel, in honor of their son, Tobias. Tim loved music, especially playing the guitar, and he was an avid reader. He is survived by his loving wife of 32 years, Nancy Loeb; children, Julie Garcia, Paul Loeb, Christina Freed, Alejo Loeb, Marcelino Loeb, Pio Loeb, Sofie Loeb, Laura Loeb, and Emily Loeb; and siblings Barbara Kennedy, Peter Loeb, and Alison O’Briend-Schardt.

Henry B. Lamb ’58

July 14, 2016, in Palm Springs, California.

After attending Reed, Henry earned a master’s degree from the University of Michigan School of Public Health in the organization and financing of health care services. He served in the U.S. Army for three years in the European theater of operations and for many years worked and traveled extensively throughout Europe, Algeria, Vietnam, and Saudi Arabia. He served as an expert consultant on health maintenance organizations to the assistant secretary of health

during the Carter and Reagan administrations in Washington, D.C. In the late 1960s, he joined Kaiser Permanente, serving as the founding administrator of its dental care program, and later as the administrator of the Kaiser Permanente Center for Health Research. Henry was the founding administrator of the SCAN Health Plan in Long Beach, California, and worked with the Hawaii State Human Services Department evaluating a major program to reduce Hawaii’s uninsured population to below 5% in the 1990s. He became a consultant to HCF, a large health care insurance corporation in Australia, and worked with the Royal Commission in Saudi Arabia in delivery of health care services He is survived by his husband, Allan Robert Lamb, and siblings John Lamb and Elizabeth Lamb Hayes.

Louise (Klemperer) Sather ’61

August 23, 2016, in Portland of amyotrophic lateral sclerosis.

Louise once defined the central task of her life as “searching for new ways of seeing or understanding things, or facilitating others’ searches.” She began life in Chicago, the only child of Leo and Helen Klemperer. Growing up on the North Shore in Winnetka, she inherited a lifelong love of classical music from her father, and in high school and at Reed played the string bass. Distantly related to the great conductor Otto Klemperer, her father took Louise to summer concerts at Ravinia whenever he was performing there. She remembered going backstage, where the great man would address her as his “little relative.” At Reed, she majored in literature and wrote her thesis on the Joseph novels of Thomas Mann, with Prof. Wesley Blomster [German 1960‑61] advising. During her first semester at Reed, she met Clifford Sather ’61 in German class. A romance bloomed until their final year, when they parted—Clifford to go to graduate school at Harvard and Louise to pursue a career as an artist. In reality, Reed had never been a perfect fit for Louise. “I was very emotionally immature when I went to Reed and not prepared or able to grow to meet Reed’s challenges,” she admitted. By her senior year, she was keen to begin something new, preferably involving her hands more than her intellect. Remembering the pleasure of working with clay in grade school, she took a pottery class. The experience was a revelation: “Sitting at the pottery wheel trying to shape the soft, spinning clay, I felt I’d rather be right here, right now, doing this than anything else in the world.” Following formal training in ceramics and a master’s of fine arts from Alfred december 2016  Reed magazine 43


In Memoriam University in New York, she became a potter. In the late 1960s, she moved to South Haven, Michigan, and joined a community of artists and craftspeople—part of the “back to the land” movement, where craftspeople, seeking simpler lives, produced beautiful objects for people to use in their everyday lives rather than cluttering the world with mass-produced, consumer items. Louise’s distinctive style incorporated the shapes and textures of natural objects, such as rocks and ice. In 1979, she divorced her husband, Heiko, and moved back to Portland with her six-yearold son, Tom. She taught art and creativity classes at the Oregon School of Arts and Crafts, made pottery, and worked as a freelancer— writing for American Ceramics, Willamette Week, and the Oregonian—and co-authored a volume on 20th-century Japanese prints (Images of a Changing World), published by the Portland Art Museum. She also interviewed artists and musicians for KBOO radio. By the end of the 1980s, Louise’s life had again shifted direction. Interviewing a ceramic sculptor, she studied pictures of the artist’s work and was suddenly struck by the profound interplay between one’s life and art. Contemplating the therapeutic implications of this, she returned to graduate school and earned a master’s degree in counseling psychology from Lewis and Clark. She studied art therapy training at the Person-Centered Expressive Therapy Institute in California, and, during her training, worked for three months as a counselor at Reed. After certification, she opened her own practice, focusing primarily on cognitive-behavioral and expressive art therapy. “My clients came for healing from depression or posttraumatic stress, for personal growth, breaking blocks to creativity, or to find their own voice,” she explained. In 1996, with her son away at college, she ran into her college sweetheart, Clifford Sather, who had just returned to Portland to teach anthropology at Reed before taking up a professorship at the University of Helsinki. In 2001, the couple married in Chicago, and Louise closed her practice and joined Cliff in Sarawak in Malaysian Borneo. In 2003, Cliff got an opportunity to pursue a research project he had long dreamed of, recording a Saribas Iban healing ritual called the Sugi sakit, which was now on the verge of disappearing. “I had seen it performed in the late ’70s and realized that it precisely fit Louise’s interests,” Cliff said. “At its heart was a narrative epic, composed in poetic language and sung for the patient by a priest bard, that symbolically identified the patient with the heroes and heroines of the epic. The aesthetic beauty of the narrative’s language and setting were seen as crucial to the ritual’s effectiveness in healing.” 44 Reed magazine  december 2016

In the field the couple recorded a complete version of the Sugi sakit, together with extensive commentary from the last living priest bard able to perform it. Later that year, they returned to Helsinki, where Cliff resumed teaching at the university, and Louise conducted a popular series of writing workshops and counseled students with writing blocks. In 2005, they retired and moved back to Portland. Louise turned the lower level of their house into an art studio, and the couple continued to supervise graduate students, write, and return to Sarawak to continue work on the Sugi sakit. In 2013, Louise’s doctors found signs of breast cancer. Following surgery and chemotherapy, she was pronounced cancer free, but was troubled by new symptoms including speech difficulties and weakness in her right arm and leg. In 2015, her neurologist diagnosed her with amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS). “She suffered from a particularly aggressive form of the disease,” Cliff explained. “The time we had together proved to be far shorter than we had imagined. Although she soon lost her ability to speak, her mind was unaffected. She never lost her courage or sense of humor, nor, mercifully, the use of her writing hand.” “The outcome is known—certain death,” she wrote in her journal. “But the details, how I live the life that is left, what I do with that which has been given to me, that is up to me. I remember the old, manual slide rule. You slide the tables back and forth to put in your numbers, and another table gave you an answer number. But you had to figure out where the decimal point went, which entirely changed the number’s meaning and value. Every time I do something positive it moves that decimal point. It gives my own ALS a different meaning, a different value.” Down to the last minutes of her life, she continued to communicate by writing, journaling about her rich inner life, describing all that she had loved in life and her struggles with illness. Her journal was meant to help her husband and son work through their impending grief as in it she described how she gradually came to terms with dying. Louise completed her journal in June and died peacefully at home two months later, surrounded by family and friends.

Marvin Gerst ’62

May 11, 2016, in Rancho Sante Fe, California, of Parkinson’s disease.

Marvin majored in psychology at Reed and wrote his thesis, Operant Verbal Conditioning in Client-Centered Therapy, with Prof. Carol Creedon [psychology 1957–91]. He earned a PhD in psychology from Stanford, and did postdoctoral research there in the social ecology laboratory. One of his interests was in perceived environments and their relationship to behavior—particularly with regard to university residential facilities.

Marvin held joint positions in San Diego as a professor in the department of psychology at the University of California School of Medicine and as staff psychologist at the Department of Veterans Affairs Medical Center. While at UCSD, he met and married a woman with whom he invested in nursing homes. After they divorced he continued to run the nursing homes, using the proceeds to retire. But he became bored with retirement and began buying accounts receivable from construction companies during a construction boom in the San Diego area. When a recession hit the area following defense contract reductions, he diversified into manufacturing companies. Marvin was a staunch defender of San Diego’s open spaces. He was an advocate for the preservation of rural landscapes in the San Dieguito River valley, served on the Del Mar Mesa Community Planning Board for more than 10 years, and chaired the Los Peñasquitos Canyon Preserve Citizens Advisory Committee. In 1982, he purchased a horse ranch next to Carmel Creek north of San Diego. He and his beloved Appaloosa horse, Scout, enjoyed riding through the Carmel valley, Torrey Hills, Pacific Highlands Ranch, and Del Mar Mesa. In the 1980s, the conventional wisdom among builders was that horses were a thing of the past. But by the 1990s, an industry study showed that homeowners’ top priority was access to trails and open space. Marvin played a key role in the establishment of the Carmel Valley Restoration and Enhancement Project trail, which ran along his ranch. When the plan for the trail was being developed, he insisted that he would only cooperate if the trail traversed all the properties in the valley, connecting the east end to the west end. He got his wish. Today the trail is traveled daily by bicyclists, joggers, horseback riders, and walkers, and his longtime friends hope the anchor pathway he helped create will one day be known as the Marvin Gerst Trail.

Carol Sawyer ’62

April 18, 2016, in Gresham, Oregon.

Born in Maracaibo, Venezuela, Carol attended high school at Ruston Academy in pre-Castro Cuba. She remained a citizen of the world throughout most of her life. She attended Reed through her junior year, and spent most of her post-Reed life in South America, France, India, and Spain, returning to the United States in 1991. She worked as a teacher, freelance editor, and translator, and was fully multilingual in English, Spanish, and French and adept in Portuguese, Italian, and Hindi. In the late 1990s, Carol was working on her doctoral dissertation at the California Institute of Integral Studies in San Francisco when her health declined. She moved to Vernonia, Oregon, in 2001, to live her retirement years in a quiet, green river valley. She passed away after four years of complications from diabetes and other conditions. She treasured her years at Reed.


Lionel Livermore ’64

July 7, 2016, in Woodland, Washington.

Lionel was born in Cornell, Wisconsin, and his family moved to California in 1936. After graduating from high school in Glendale, he enlisted in the U.S. Navy and was stationed at Whidbey Island, Washington, where he worked in air traffic control. In 1945, he married Jean Griffith in Woodland, Washington, where they lived and raised their family. From 1960 through 1965 he took several graduate classes at Reed. His higher education included Western Washington University and Oregon State University. Lionel was an educator committed to learning, outstanding scholarship, and providing inspiration to students and colleagues. He taught at Long High School and Lower Columbia College in Longview, Washington, and was involved in the planning of Oregon Museum of Science and Industry and school science fairs. He valued his friendship with Dr. Linus Pauling and was an active American Chemical Society member. Lionel served on the Woodland School District board and was a longtime member of the Woodland Presbyterian Church. He is survived by his children, Shelley Stoll, Scott Livermore, Tamara Duemmer, Tracy Thomas, and Craig Livermore, and his sister, Claire Marlowe.

Sid W. Parker MAT ’64

July 13, 2016, in Enumclaw, Washington.

The only child of William and Gladys Parker, Sid grew up in Lincoln, Nebraska, where he became an accomplished baseball and basketball player and met his future wife and lifelong partner, Bobbie Kirk. He continued to play baseball at the University of Washington, where he was a member of Theta Chi fraternity, and obtained a teaching degree. After getting a master’s degree from Reed, he later obtained an administrator’s certificate from Western Washington University. In 1957, he and Bobbie moved to Oak Harbor, Washington, where he began his career in education as a math teacher at Oak Harbor High School. He was also a highly successful baseball coach and built lifelong friendships with many of his former players. Sid eventually became the assistant principal and then principal of the high school. During his 17 years as principal, he opened a new high school building in the community, leaving a legacy of educational excellence and changed lives. After retiring, he studied to become a financial planner and established a small financial services business. He and Bobbie moved to Enumclaw in 2013 to be near their children and grandchildren. An avid outdoorsman, Sid loved golf, camping, hunting, and fishing with family

and friends. In retirement, he and Bobbie traveled around the world. A natural leader with a big personality, he had the heart of a teacher, mentoring students and colleagues and sharing life lessons with his children and grandchildren. His wife Bobbie, sons Terry and Neil, and daughter Vickie Hughes survive him.

Karen Drews White ’64

August 14, 2016, in San Anselmo, California.

With her unquenchable desire to read and learn, Karen walked through life like an encyclopedia soaking up information from the pages of life. Her father, Professor Robin Drews ’35, finished his bachelor’s degree at the University of Oregon, but it was his respect for Reed College that led Karen to enroll. “At Reed, I began to learn to think clearly and critically,” she remembered. “When I graduated from East Lansing High School, I told my friends I was going to college in the West because people married people they met in college and I wanted to marry a Westerner.” At Reed, she met and married Joel Kahan ’64, and during their 10-year marriage she acquired a degree in English literature from UCLA and a son, Gordon. After divorcing Joel, she realized single mothers with a BA in literature were not in great demand, and completed an MA in English literature at Stanford. She got jobs in Berkeley working for public service–oriented organizations, but was bothered that she wasn’t a “something” and enrolled in an MBA/accounting program at California State University, East Bay. It was an interest developed through various jobs. About the time she was ready to work as an accountant and her son was graduating from high school, she attended her 25th high school reunion. She met a former classmate to whom she had spoken only once in the seventh grade. It was apparently love at second sight, because she married Wood White four months later. Their two sons graduated a week and most of a continent apart, and in June, Karen returned to the scene of her childhood. “One can go home again,” she wrote, “and after it stops feeling like a foreign country, it’s a great place to be—especially with the right person, doing the right things.” She worked as an accountant, a job she loved, at Michigan State University, and, in the last years of her career, ran the kitchen in a senior care facility, where she acted as a guardian angel to many of the residents, ensuring they were well cared for. Her husband, Wood White, his son, Wood, and her son, Gordon Kahan, survive Karen.

James Dee Logan MAT ’70 March 6, 2016, in Spokane, Washington, of heart complications.

Born into a family of colossal storytellers who spun great adventure tales, James had an artist’s eye for the beauty of the cosmos. A prolific artist, his drawings and paintings were exhibited in

Maine, Texas, and California, and he worked for Will Vinton Studios building models and doing clay animation. After earning a bachelor’s degree in art from Gonzaga University, he got a master’s from Reed and made a career of teaching English literature and theater. He lectured at Rice University, the University of Maine, and the University of Houston, and taught for years at LaSalle High School in Milwaukie, Oregon, and at Holy Family Catholic School in Portland. James acted professionally in Houston, New York, and Edinburgh; directed Shakespeare; designed and built sets; and directed sound and lighting. He taught drama in Florence, Italy, and Lugano, Switzerland, and helped mainstream profoundly deaf students into regular classrooms at Tucker Maxon School in Portland. An unimpeachable genius of a man, James was socially concerned and aware, embraced life, and lived in a golden place replete with deities of his choosing. He looked for the perfect vision of light, whether in a sketch or in the refracted light of friends.

Ann Marie Veninga ’75 January 19, 2015, in Round Rock, Texas.

A history major at Reed, Ann Marie wrote her thesis, Local and Central Government: A Background to the Stamp Act Crisis, with Prof. John Tomsich [history 1962–99]. She went on to get her doctor of jurisprudence from the University of Texas–Austin and studied at Southern Methodist University. She made her career as an accomplished tax attorney with the Internal Revenue Service in Washington, D.C., before returning to Texas in 2003. But Ann considered her greatest accomplishments the ones that came as wife, mother and sister. She is survived by her daughters, Skye and Shelby Kramer; her husband, John Kramer; and her siblings, Dolores Veninga, Louise Zaricor, Frederick Veninga, Frank Veninga, MD, and Karen Driscoll.

Ellen Bilodeau Lacayo ’76 May 13, 2016, in Gallup, New Mexico.

Born in San Antonio, Ellen grew up in New Orleans, and after majoring in anthropology at Reed, transferred to Tulane University, where she earned a bachelor’s degree in anthropology. In 1999, she received a master’s degree in management and disability services from the McLaren School of Business at the University of San Francisco. In Gallup, New Mexico, she served as the program director of Disability Services Inc. from 1990 until 1995, when she became executive director. Among her accomplishments were eliminating group home and sheltered workshop practices from the community. Instead, she worked with local businesses to create real jobs for people with disabilities and created a fine arts gallery and studio showcasing the work december 2016  Reed magazine 45


In Memoriam of outsider artists with developmental disabilities in the Gallup arts community. Ellen devoted her life to social justice and equal rights, actively protesting the Vietnam War, holding a leadership role in the Students for a Democratic Society, and fighting for passage of the Americans with Disabilities Act. She brought her passion for justice to the American Civil Liberties Union, where she served as a member of the board of directors for the New Mexico chapter. A lifelong advocate for animals, Ellen spent much of her free time with her own cats and invested a great deal of energy into helping friends and coworkers find new pets or homes for strays. Survivors include her sons, Patrick Costello and Myles Lacayo, and her partner, Fitz Sargent.

Thomas Jones ’79

December 15, 2015, in San Antonio, Texas.

Tom grew up in eastern Oregon and attended the University of Oregon before transferring to Reed. A psychology major, he wrote his thesis on the effectiveness of behavioral treatments for insomnia with Prof. Leslie Squier [psychology 1953–88]. He went on to earn a master’s in political sociology from the London School of Economics and a master of philosophy in sociology from the University of Oxford. A producer/ director of both television and film, Tom owned his own production company in San Antonio, where he produced and directed commercials. He also worked as a sports marketing consultant. Tom’s most memorable times were spent with his family and working with San Antonio youth, both as a soccer coach and as a volunteer for Central Catholic High School’s Junior Reserve Officer Training Corps. Survivors include his wife of 22 years, Amy, sons Trevor and Riley, his parents Harold and Betty, and his brother Tim.

Russel Kauffman ’84

August 9, 2016, in Branchburg, New Jersey, from cancer.

The eldest of six children, Russel grew up in a log cabin in Cave Junction, Oregon. His father ran a wood construction business, and the family used mules and a draft horse to drag harvested wood out of the Siskiyou Mountains. Russel excelled at driving the mules and the Belgian draft horse, which was dangerous work. One end of the harness would be attached to the horse and the other end to a tree. Russel would steer the horse using a long pair of reins, having to jump around trees and shrubs to avoid getting dragged or slammed into a tree. After Russel was accepted into the PhD physics program at Stanford, his father quipped that he’d lost the best mule driver he ever had. At Reed, he wrote his thesis, Self-Force and Electromagnetic Mass, with Prof. David Griffiths [physics 1978–] advising, and went 46 Reed magazine  december 2016

on to earn his doctorate from Stanford University. Russel developed and taught a computer simulation course, as well as a full physics curriculum, and was an assistant professor of physics at Muhlenberg College and a visiting assistant professor of physics at Franklin and Marshall College. His research in computational chemistry simulated the electronic structure of metals to tune catalytic properties, and the results were published in a leading journal. An aerospace physicist, he worked as a senior engineer for Vencore in King of Prussia, Pennsylvania, and he spoke at five national conferences and one international conference. With his wife, Jade Fantasy, he shared a passion for Argentine tango and loved dancing and performing. Along with his parents, he is survived by his wife, Jade; his son, Felix; stepsons, Jonathan and Jason MacDuffie; brothers, Zachary, Marcus, and Matthew Kauffman; and sisters, Matina Kauffmann and Angelique Kauffman Rodriquez.

Yitzchak Dumiel (born Isaac Sterling) ’91 January 9, 2013, in Kirkland, Washington.

Yitzchak (who used Isaac as a familiar name until the end of his life) was a gifted child with a genius IQ who liked to act, draw, and make music. He spent his childhood in Issaquah, Washington, and attended the prestigious Karen Kramer Drama Program, a competitiveentry program founded by the wife of director Stanley Kramer to train children with exceptional acting talent. Isaac regaled his family with comedy advice he received from Dom DeLuise and other celebrities with whom he was on a first-name basis. As he became a teenager, his artistic interests shifted more towards music—especially the dark and angry. One of his favorite songs was “Coward” by the Swans, which glamorizes suicide. Feeling that he did not fit in with his family, Isaac considered suicide, but it isn’t believed that he ever engaged in physical selfharm. However, he developed a pattern of romantically pursuing emotionally unhealthy women. The resulting painful breakups turned him into a highly intellectual but emotionally closed-off man. From 1987–89, he attended Reed, and did a study abroad in Munich in 1989–90. He withdrew in spring 1991 and supported himself as an in-home care worker for patients with spinal cord injuries, volunteering his help with senior citizens and children with serious illnesses. Around 2000, Isaac began exploring Orthodox Judaism and enrolled in an Orthodox yeshiva (a Jewish institution focusing on the study of traditional religious texts) in New York City, but left after a semester. He began taking classes at the University of Washington and founded an experimental music organization that became the Seattle Phonographers

Union. Phonography, intended to suggest the “sound version” of photography, is also known as field recording, and its artistic goal is to record interesting “found sounds,” in much the same way a photographer might capture a beautiful sunset. The musician then arranges the found sounds into a cohesive whole made up of instruments that are the natural environment. Isaac’s pioneering work in Pacific Northwest phonography made him a popular panelist at academic conferences during this time. In 2004, he graduated from the University of Washington and was offered a fellowship to continue graduate studies in neuropsychology and bioacoustics. But he turned it down and moved to China in the hope that a complete change of environment might spark the happiness that had evaded him for so long. From the day he moved to China, and for the rest of his life, he referred to himself as Yitzchak Dumiel, though he always answered to Isaac as well. Yitzchak is a Hebrew version of “Isaac,” and “Dumiel” translates as “the silence of God.” He chose the name because he believed there was power and profundity in silence, but the choice later seemed a foreboding. Cancer eventually took Isaac’s voice, and he was unable to speak for the last several months of his life. Initially the move to China seemed like a disaster. The private school at which he’d been hired to teach went bankrupt and closed soon after he arrived, leaving him penniless in a foreign country with a poor command of the language. But it turned out to be the best decision of his life, because he met his future wife, Guitian (Becky) Li, at a training center where he found a new job teaching Chinese managers English as well as the American sense of humor. One example of a lesson Isaac designed was to have each student read a different part of a Seinfeld episode, so they could learn “humor about nothing.” Becky had moved from a small farming village to the big city to attend school, but was forced to set aside her own college plans and work so her younger brother could go to college. She wanted to at least learn English, and, after enrolling at the training center, found herself in Isaac’s classroom on a day when he was substituting for the regular English teacher. The two of them hit it off. Isaac was very conservative in his courtship of Becky. The two would sit on opposite ends of a park bench watching the sunlight play on leaves floating in the water. Realizing he was a man she could trust, she began actively pursuing him. The two began spending every waking moment together, and their wedding day in 2008 was one of the happiest days of Isaac’s life. He had found his emotional rock. From 2006 to 2008, using the pen name “Du Yisa” (a Chinese “corruption” of Yitzchak Dumiel), he authored the blog Fanfusuzi, where he published short stories, prose poems,


photography, and translations of classical Chinese poetry. The blog became popular among English-speaking expatriates in China and artistically minded sinophiles in other countries. In 2008, Isaac was diagnosed with squamous cell cancer of the tongue. It was a freak occurrence, as Isaac had not smoked, chewed tobacco, or engaged in other high-risk activities. The cancer moved rapidly, and much of his tongue needed to be removed. Isaac and Becky moved to the U.S. for his treatment. Eventually Isaac required a “tongue” made from his chest muscles, and his disease progressed to the point where he never spoke again, communicating through writing and hand gestures for the last months of his life. From 2010–12, he focused on fighting the disease and trying to be a good husband. Throughout his life he had studied literature, music, and international philosophy, especially Taoism, Confucianism, Sufism, and Buddhism. He had cultivated an appreciation for Chinese painting, pottery, and instruments, as well as calligraphy and tea. As his health worsened, Isaac continued to collect music from around the world and studied ancient Greek philosophy, especially the Stoics. On a crisp, beautiful night, during the first snowfall of 2013, Isaac passed away at Evergreen Hospice, in the arms of his brother, Aaron, and his wife, Guitian.

Uptrends? DownTrends? WHY NOT MORE FULFILLING ENDS? Give appreciated stock to Reed College and receive life income— you’ll feel swell.

FRIENDS AND PROFESSORS

Prof. John L. Bjorkstam [physics 1986–87]

August 30, 2016, in Seattle, Washington.

His scientific career interest spanned a technological timeline from vacuum tubes to quantum mechanics. Born in Seattle, Bjorkstam graduated from Ballard High School and served in the Navy. He graduated from the University of Washington in electrical engineering, gaining both master’s and doctorate degrees. He was appointed assistant professor in electrical engineering at UW in 1955, and then advanced to professor in 1965. Bjorkstam specialized in solid-state electronics and studies of molecular motion and ferroelectrics. He did consulting work for Boeing on solid-state maser research,and in 1967–1968 worked on ferroelectricity in France and Yugoslavia. After retiring from UW, he taught at Reed for one year and consulted for several agencies and institutes on various projects to include preliminary research on MRI. John also served on various boards, including Trinity Western University Board of Governors and United Evangelical Free Church. He was married for 66 years to his wife, Gwen.

Pending Ruth Wetterborg Sandvik ’38, John K. Eide ’44, Colleen Powers Mahon ’48, Dale Own Merrill ’49, Kenneth Tollenaar ’50, Phillip Moloso III ’59, Brian Campf ’89.

Sure, it’s great! When you establish a charitable gift annuity at Reed with a gift of cash or appreciated stock, you can take advantage of multiple benefits—including life income, a charitable tax deduction, and reduced capital gains tax—and still provide substantial support to the college. Call Audrey Anderson at 503/517-7937 or email giftplanning@reed.edu. To learn more, visit our website at reed.edu/cga.


apocrypha  t r a d i t i o n   •   m y t h   •   l e g e n d

Digging the Dust of Shakespeare’s Bones in Crystal Springs BY BRANDON MARROW ’18

In September, 1950, a roving band of Reed students outfitted with lutes and the drama department’s best shot at Elizabethan attire descended on Crystal Springs Island to jump a cyclone fence that had been recently erected by the Rhododendron Society. With a great vertical leap, these students protested the desecration of their beloved “Shakespeare Island” by knavish and unworthy barricades. Nowadays the bones of this controversy lie deep under the soil, goose-crap, and rhododendron roots of Crystal Springs. Today students know the island (really more like a peninsula) as the section of the Rhodie Garden that sits across a scenic wooden bridge where “fair is ‘fowl’ and ‘fowl’ is fair.” The Shakespearean roots of the island were sown in 1930, when the LaBarre Shakespeare Club established a Shakespearean garden on the premises. Reed president Dr. Norman F. Coleman was present at the opening ceremony and helped plant the island’s first Shakespearean sapling—an English oak in honor of that oak whose antique root peeped out along a brawling brook in As You Like It. The garden truly flourished when Prof. Barry Cerf [English 1921–48] rallied student support for the project in 1932. Students in the ’30s considered the island an unofficial part of campus, where they sought reverie and communion with nature. Shakespeare Island appeared in the 1933 student publication “Campus Views,” which included a photo of a student perched in a willow

48 Reed magazine  december 2016

“ Reed Students Cry Out Against Shakespeare Isle ‘Desecration.’” Photo from the Oregon Journal, Sept. 28, 1950.

tree by the lake. A 1950 Quest article dubbed the land mass a “Walden” for Reed students and a holy site for the deliberate “religious practice” of the “Reed College Thoreau.” (We aren’t sure exactly what this means, but we get the drift.) During the tempestuous times brought on by the Depression and World War II, Shakespeare Island grew wild. Reed students doubled their toil and trouble, and journeyed there seeking communion of a different kind. The overgrown isle became known

as a nocturnal haven for campfire songs fueled by kegs of BlitzWeinhard and as a “couples’ retreat” for fulsome frolicking in the ferns. Eastmoreland residents quickly became acquainted with the rites of the Reed student on the island and, when asked about its purpose, mused that it was where students retired “for intellectual conversation and whatever other activities occur to a Reed College student when the moonlight is too weak to read Shelley in.” These residents were thus delighted when, in June, 1950,

Portland City Commissioner Ormond Bean judged Reed students’ endeavors on the island a case of “Love’s Labour’s Lost” and wrote a municipal ordinance handing it over to the Rhododendron Society, which promptly fenced it off. The barricades provoked outrage from students, who proceeded to stage one of the more unusual protests in Reed’s history. Having scaled the fence, breeches intact, students chanted “For Jesus’ sake forbear—Keep Shakespeare out of Shakespeare Island? Never!” Reporters from the Oregonian and the Oregon Daily Journal rushed to the scene, nineironed golfers swore to have seen “pixies” across the lake, and long-suffering Eastmoreland neighbors dismissed the spectacle as much ado about nothing. Writing in the Quest, students argued that the Rhododendron Society would not promote the ecological health of the island or the Portland public. In a column titled A Serpent’s Tooth, Bill Dickey ’51 declared the rhododendron an invasive species comparable to the Japanese beetle and accused Commissioner Bean of attempting to woo the public with azaleas. Local papers such as the Oregonian responded with scathing remarks about the Reed College “cut-ups.” In the end, however, the protests availed naught. Shakespeare Island went from on-campus, to off-campus, to off-limits for Reed students. It was thus fitting that students chanted the verses from the Bard’s own epitaph: Good frend for Jesus sake forbeare, To digg the dust encloased heare; Bleste be the man that spares thes stones, And curst be he that moves my bones.


JUNE 7–11, 2017

REUNIONS.REED.EDU


REED COLLEGE

3203 SE Woodstock Boulevard Portland, Oregon 97202-8199

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Audrey Dannar ’17 [chemistry] and backpack co-op manager Sara Kelemen ’17 [environmental studies–history] take a well-earned break in the newly remodeled sports center.


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