Class Letter
January 12, 2004
Dear Classmates:
You have all received postcards and letters as reminders for our upcoming 35th Reunion May 21 to May 23. In December, a few of us - Kirsten Dahlman Durbin, Donna Botbol Jauvtis, Dianne Munson, Georgia Taft Pye, Nancy Robbins Rea, Andree Schwedersky Growney and Yours Truly, Katherine Button - got together at Lucy Mackell Sach's house to break bread together, plan and reminisce. My homework: to write a reflections letter to all of you.
My grandmother recommended that I apply to Wheaton. Helen Lucy Garratt was a member of the pioneering Class of 1913, the first Wheaton class to receive college degrees. (Someday, when I am ready, I will donate her yearbook to the Wheaton Archives.) Growing up in Medway, Massachusetts, I listened to Nanny's tales about Wheaton. My favorite story was about her sneaking up to the cupola on top of Mary Lyon Hall to study. I was never so bold. Now my cousin Julia Atwood attends Wheaton as a member of the Class of '06. When she is not in school, she lives in her great grandmother's house in Medway.
I am writing this letter in front of my fireplace at home in Watertown. Freshman year, Gretchen Ellis and I were assigned a corner room in Stanton with a fireplace and two enormous walk-in closets. (I could use those closets now!) Wheaton supplied the firewood. We just had to haul it up from the basement to the third floor. On the night of the Great Northeast Blackout November 9, 1965, we lit a fire and Gretchen played her recorder.
When I revisited the room, oh, about four years ago, the fireplace was blocked off and three people, not two, were assigned our old space. Gretchen and I had a very good deal back in 1965. We liked the place so much we lived there our sophomore year, too.
Wheaton fare was remarkably good, a treat after four years of dismal high school cafeteria grub. Andy Fishman Rubenstein reminded me of the Saturday night steak dinners. I remember the enormous bowls of fresh creamy yogurt (a new delicacy for me) and the ice cream - mint chip and M&M ice cream were my particular favorites. Later I learned that the Hood family supplied Wheaton with its dairy products.
You must remember the dress code requiring skirts at dinner. What would we have done without our denim skirts, extracted from the closet heap?
When winter snows arrived we snuck out cafeteria trays to sled down the Dimple. I didn't know then that Judge Wheaton's barn stood on the site, that we were actually sliding down the cellar hole.
My name, Katherine Button, bore close resemlance to Katherine Burton, beloved Professor of English. Our mail was constantly mixed up at the Post Office. A chance to socialize. On one occasion, Miss Burton couldn't figure out why anyone should send her a pair of rubber boots, until she realized they were meant for me. Years after I graduated, Miss Burton and I giggled over the mix up.
Other memories: Fathers' Weekends. Convocations. Blue sweaters over white dresses. James Taylor performing on Chapel Field. Spring Fling 1968. The green tee shirt with the psychedelic pattern is still part of my collection.
When the world exploded the spring of 1968, our campus felt like a haven. I met a guy from Harvard who looked to Wheaton to get away from it all. He wasn't about to jeapordize his scholarship by being arrested inside Harvard's University Hall
Our Class made Wheaton history the day we graduated. My conservative relatives were horrified by the show of white arm bands, yet all took delight in the beautiful orchid leis courtesy of Sharlene Luke's family in Hawaii. Tradition rocks. The Class of 1969 will always be different. Make Reunion happen May 21-23.
Peace,
Katherine Button
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