Madge

I first met Madge when I was training to ride in the Philadelphia->DC AIDS ride in 1996.  Her husband, Dick, was the chemistry lab assistant at the school I was teaching at in Philadelphia, and they were members of the Bicycle Club of Philadelphia who were also regular ride leaders.  Dick invited me on rides, offered to lead groups of teachers on rides, and introduced me to Madge.

Madge was a wonderful, generous woman who immediately offered to let me stay overnight the night before the ride, and transportation to the ride start at some incredibly early hour of the morning.  She was encouraging and helpful, and made sure I carbo-loaded properly the night before the ride and well hydrated.

Here I am, ready to go at 6:30 AM outside the old Philadelphia Civic Center (since demolished), thanks to Madge and Dick.

Since the AIDS ride, I continued to ride on occasion with Madge and Dick off and on for a few years.  Their Saturday rides were an easy pace that always featured a stop for pancake brunch.  Since they always started in Northeast Philly, however, I began to find it bothersome to drive there for a ride on Saturday morning, and after moving in with my husband I stopped riding with them altogether.

I am sorry that I have not ridden lately, I am sorry not to have spent more time with Madge.  She died on Saturday, on a ride with Dick and loyal riders who have been riding with them on Saturdays for years.  I have no photos of Madge, but I have good memories.

Dick, my heartfelt sympathies are with you, your children and grandchildren.  I will see you at the viewing on Thursday.  I’m so sorry for your loss.  I know you know how lucky you both were to have each other for so long.  She was one of those people who touch your heart and make you feel warm and cared for.

Alison

This is Alison Des Forges, at the graduation party my parents held for me and my friends back in 1988.  Two summers later, in 1990, she helped me learn Scottish Highland dancing (we worked on the fling and the sword dance) during the last summer I spent living in my parents’ house.

This was when she was, to me, just my friend Sandy’s mom.  It was her house our little group of friends went to after senior prom.  She hosted us on New Years’ Eve our first winter break home from college, when we thought we might enjoy some alcoholic beverages. We wound up testing them to see which burned well and which didn’t, as opposed to drinking any.  What a bunch of nerds we were.  We grew up to be doctors and professors, travelers and teachers.  And Alison, having raised her teenagers and gotten them off to college, tried to stop the genocide in Rwanda.

That’s what she’s known for, now.  MacArthur “Genius Grant” awardee.  Human Rights Watch Africa expert.  But to me, she’s still Sandy’s mom, Jessie’s mom, Roger’s wife.  And she’s gone, on that plane that crashed outside Buffalo last week.  I’m glad I knew her, and the world is a much better place for having had her in it.  My sympathies are with all who were touched by Alison.

Celebration

This is Irmela.  She knew me from the day I was born, and attended my first birthday party and also my wedding three years ago (this photo was taken at the reception).  She had two grown daughters and a loving husband.  She loved her cats, collected frogs (not real frogs), and enjoyed art.  She made sure my dragon collection increased most years, and made sure Buzz got appropriately unbiased political information (Buzz was given both a catnip George W. Bush and a catnip Hillary Rodham Clinton.)

Irmela had a good sense of humor and was a good friend.  I hadn’t seen much of her lately, as my trips to visit my parents who live in Irmela’s part of the world have not been terribly frequent, but we did have dinner at her home a few years ago at Christmas when my husband and I drove out for a visit.

We heard Irmela was ill just a month and a half ago, and she succumbed last night to the cancer.  My heart goes out in deepest sympathy to her husband and her daughters, whose feeling of loss I cannot imagine.  Irmela was a wonderful person, and many will miss her.

I celebrate Irmela’s life; she touched thousands of students as a school librarian and made the world a better place.  I am glad to have known her, and I am so sorry she is gone.

Grammy Wilma

On Saturday, I attended the memorial service for my maternal grandmother, Grammy Wilma. The service was in the Florida town where she had made her home for most of her life–where she had been a businesswoman and an actor/director and a pillar of the community. I cannot do justice to her life in this blog post, but I can at least post a couple of photos, one of which was taken at my wedding, and the other is from the late 1920’s, when my grandmother was a teenager. I wore that necklace to her memorial – it is a favorite of mine.

Things I remember about her:

• She came to hear me give the first talk I ever gave at a national meeting of the American Association of Physics Teachers, when I was in college
• She sent me oranges from her grove in the winter, also when I was in college
• She always welcomed me to come and visit, even on my own as a pre-teen. Once after a busy day I fell asleep on her sofa, and she had to drag me into the bedroom. I have no idea how she got me into the bed!
• She never forgot the Fourth of July that I spent with her. I refused to use the very stinky port-a-potties at the park where we spent the day (and watched fireworks that night) and she was very impressed by how long I was able to “hold it.” I still have a steel bladder, which comes in very handy as a teacher!

Grammy Wilma is fondly remembered by her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, as well as by the community theater people of St. Lucie county and the Women’s Club in Fort Pierce. She died on December 8, 2007, at the age of 93.

Left photo ©2005, John Shetron Photography

The inscription on the right photo reads “Love Always, Jus’ Wilma” in her impeccable copperplate handwriting.