Dear Wheatley Wildcats and Other Interested Persons,
Welcome to The Wheatley School Alumni Association Newsletter # 74.
Editor’s Note - No, you are not seeing double. This Newsletter, # 74, follows hard on the heels of Newsletter # 73, published just 2 days ago (on 7/1/2022). Why so soon? Because lots of material has come in over the transom since Friday (and because I have too much free time on my hands; I’m not doing enough). Check it out!
The Usual Words of Wisdom
Thanks to our fabulous Webmaster, Keith Aufhauser (Class of 1963), you can regale yourself with the first 73 Newsletters (and other Wheatley data and arcana) at
Also, thanks to Keith is our search engine, prominently displayed on our home page: type in a word or phrase and you’ll find every place it exists in all previous Newsletters and other on-site material.
I edit all submissions, even material in quotes, for clarity and concision, without any indication thereof. I do not vouch for the accuracy of what people tell me.
We welcome any and all text and photos relevant to The Wheatley School, 11 Bacon Road, Old Westbury, NY 11568, and the people who administered, taught and/or studied there. Art Engoron, Class of 1967
Note - Anything underlined is a link-to-a-link or an email address, and anything not is not, because Substack will not let you underline anything else.
Reunion Notice - Class of 1972
The Wheatley School Class of 1972 will be holding its 50th-year reunion on Saturday, September 17, 2022 at Verdi's, located on Old Country Road in Westbury, just East of Eisenhower (formerly known as “Salisbury”) Park. The event will feature a complimentary Champagne toast and soft drinks, cash bar, cocktail hour with hot hors d'ourves and cold antipasti, and a buffet dinner, including dessert and coffee. The event will be in a private room, with a private bar and bartender, dance floor and a live DJ, plus some surprises! Admission is $100 per person, and classmates are encouraged to bring their spouses, partners, or significant others. Payments will need to be made electronically by July 15, 2022, via a system to be announced in the next email blast to the class. Without taking any political position, and purely for health and safety reasons, all attendees are requested to be fully vaccinated. Attendees who will be needing hotel rooms, and classmates with questions or who are interested in attending should please contact Seth Michael Katz at liv2skiforever@gmail.com.
Changes at the Top - District Superintendent Elaine Kanas and Wheatley School Principal Sean Feeney Are Departing
Writes Superintendent Elaine Kanas - “I retired at the end of June. My last day in the District office was Wednesday, June 29th. It has been a terrific and rewarding ten years for me, having the opportunity to be the Superintendent of this wonderful school district. I am grateful for the many relationships developed with families and staff over those years, focused, always, on making our students’ experiences the best ever. My best wishes to each and every one of you for a fun and relaxing summer and a wonderful 2022-23 school year!
Welcome Dr. Gately!
Dr. Danielle Gately, presently our District’s Deputy Superintendent, will take on the role of Superintendent upon my retirement. She can be reached at Gatelyd@ewsdmail.org and her telephone number will be 516-333-5748. Congratulations and best wishes Dr. Gately!
Principal Sean Feeney has become the Assistant Superintendent of the Port Washington Union Free School District
The Peer Program - And other Assemblies and Events
Writes Ron Judkoff (1965) - “I remember clearly the Josh White concert. He sang "Strange Fruit" and it knocked my socks off. Some of our older siblings were going down to help register voters in the South, and I was just starting to play guitar and become politically aware (some might say ‘woke’).
Writes Josh Wilner (1965) - I noticed Arthur Brown recalling Josh White’s concert at Wheatley in 1964 (not long after White had escaped the blacklist). The concert was arranged through the good offices of Alison Bernstein’s (1965; deceased) father, Robert Bernstein (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Bernstein_(comics)). Alison was G.O. (“General Organization,” the student government) president at the time - a harbinger, it turns out, of important leadership roles to come, at the Ford Foundation and elsewhere (https://www.fordfoundation.org/news-and-)stories/stories/posts/remembering-alison-bernstein/).
Writes Art Engoron (1967) - I vividly remember Alison at Wheatley; anyone who remembers her probably remembers her vividly. She was a force of nature and went on to great success, which surprised no one.
THE WHEATLEY AURORA - WHAT’S IN A NAME?!
Writes Renee Gershen Nadel - “‘Aurora’ was our yearbook's name from Day One. I was the Editor-in-Chief of the 1960 yearbook, and we inherited the name from the year or two before us. If anyone still has that gold-colored Aurora, our theme was “Silhouettes.” In other words we would always remember only the shadow of our years at Wheatley, but the yearbook, hopefully, would fill in the whole picture for us in years to come. I am hopeful it did just that!!”
Parents
Write Jim Schaus, Jr. (1971) - “Certain original works of art bring back great memories. I have attached three paintings done by my father, James Schaus, who was an advertising art director in Manhattan during the week, and a landscape and portrait painter on weekends, working out of his self-built art studio in our home on Harvard Street in East Williston. The scenes below are oil paintings done in the 1960's and include the Roslyn Duck Pond, the East Williston train station (he knew it well, commuting each day), and Bacon Road with a hint of snow on the ground. He was an extraordinarily talented and prolific painter and craftsman, and I hope the newsletter audience will enjoy these artistic memories of our beautiful town. Thanks ART!
Graduates
1958 - Steve Nelson - Letter to the Editor
The New York Times recently published a letter Steve wrote about the United States Supreme Court ruling in Dobbs v Jackson Women’s Health Organization.
Writes Jesse - “I’ve been thinking about ‘where we are and whither we are tending,’ to quote my 7th grade English teacher. So here goes:
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.’ I love the opening line of Dickens’s A Tale of Two Cities, and I think about it often as I reflect on the current political environment we live in today. That’s how I think of the 1960s I grew up in. By contrast, today feels like just the worst of times. (BTW, the next best first line is ‘Call me Ishmael,’ from Moby-Dick, of course, also a classic and full of a different kind of meaning).
Ironically, I read A Tale when I was in high school, and Sydney Carton and England represented the best and Madame DeFarge and France the worst. Then I went off to college and jumped on “the Change Bandwagon,” and it was the French Revolution that turned me on, fought only 15 years after our own revolution, but in our text books a dark moment in history. Takeaway - ‘Revolution (besides our own) bad. Establishment good.’
But that’s what the 60s was about, turning the page on the 1950s when ‘the torch was passed to a new generation,’ as JFK said in his inauguration. We looked ahead to …… we knew not what, but that it would be modern, dynamic, caring, and exciting. Definitely young. And more fun. The best.
But first, what about the 60s ‘worst of times?’ In many ways it was darker than today. There were so many reasons to be despondent it is hard to look back and wonder why our spirits weren’t crushed.
Our leaders and role models were assassinated. I don’t buy the ‘great man’ theory of history, but you’ve got to wonder what the future would have looked like with MLK and the Kennedys.
For a young man (and for our families, girlfriends, etc.), the War in Vietnam was a constant anxiety and emotional straight jacket. The first TV war. Between the time I went off to college until the end ten years later, Vietnam became the meaning of America. One million young men, disproportionately black and poor, were drafted. We all realized early that the war was lost, and that the goal was to inflict maximum casualties on “the enemy.” The was no other way to look at it.
At the same time, the Civil Rights Movement began to directly confront 100 years of post-slavery discrimination. There was violence, often deadly. When young white students entered the struggle in the south, we learned first-hand what hatred looked like up close and personal (on June 21, 1964, three activists were murdered in Mississippi, including two white students). And then we witnessed the rage in the north as most of America’s major cities burned.
And what can I say about President Nixon. He was a deeply flawed person, fearful and paranoid, and unable to understand and appreciate democracy. The normal ‘leak’ of government secrets led him to create ‘the plumbers,’ an out-of-control secret group of wackos and thugs who targeted enemies, real and imagined.
Yes, all of that was the worst. What made it the best? Why do many of us, old and, yes, young, look back so fondly on what I just described as a time of deep generational conflict?
Change was in the air. It is hard to think of any institution in America that wasn’t being challenged. As a young man, I felt that every day was filled more with possibility than with despair. We lived with an optimism that the future would be brighter, not just for me, but for all of us. The last word of the last line of “We Shall Overcome” is TODAY. That’s what it felt like. Or in the short poem by Muhammad Ali, “Me…We”.
It may be corny to say, but there were many days that I lived in just the moment. No worries about the future, no regrets for what I might be missing. I had enough to get by and that was ok. As Kris Kristofferson wrote, and Janice Joplin sang, in ‘Bobby McGee,’ ‘freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose.’ The future would sort itself out, and we would find meaningful roles. In the meantime, try to appreciate freedom. A buzz, some music, close friends.
I find it amusing that the phrase ‘sex, drugs and rock and roll’ became the slogan for the era. Yes, there was plenty of all three. But ‘SDR&R’ were more glue than content. It connected us all in a much more meaningful culture. In a way, it also grounded us for the most part from the most extreme tendencies (Weather Underground and way worse) of the 60s Left, by keeping us within our youth ‘lane.’
There are so many threads that it is hard to pull them all, but here are just a few.
I lived in an urban commune in a large ramshackle house. We all shared rent, cars, cooking and cleaning, and, yes, even laundry. Every week, two of us took ten people’s laundry to the laundromat, filled every washing machine and then driers, brought it all home and dumped it out on a blanket in the den (or as we called it, the ‘Huey P Newton Intercontinental Crash-pad.’ We all got on our hands and knees to find our underwear, which all faded to the color of your grandkid’s playdough, and the socks all shrunk to fit a toddler.
No coordination between those who shopped and those who cooked, no agreement between women and men on the meaning of ‘clean,’ reserving a car meant an hour of driving and picking up others, being ‘serious’ at house meetings versus attending with a buzz, and countless other goofy accommodations to communal living. A constant balance between sharing and personal development. I love the slogan ‘the personal is the political,’ but 50 years later, I am not sure what it means. Maybe the ‘consciousness raising’ is closer – imagine the world we want to live in, and what I need to do to live in it.
Art was happening nearly 24/7. Posters, street theater, music, juggling, tap dancing. We took our ideas to the streets (when we were pelted with vegetables, we considered it a ‘positive confrontational experience’). We took them to the schools (in our version of Henny Penny, the sky falling was a metaphor for climate change).
All of this was the personal side of our politics. On the broader front, we demonstrated, marched, wrote letters and more against the war, for civil rights, supporting unions (even as we disagreed on almost everything), gay rights, and on issues of equality and equity for women. Some of us went South to do voter registration, some to Washington, some to educational institutions, many to healthcare. Our thinking was, so much to do, so little time. We were in a hurry to make a better world.
What made our organizing more meaningful was – no internet or social media. It was all personal and physical. It is harder to curse someone out face to face, although there was plenty of it. The Student Anti-War Committee was located in Madison, Wisconsin because it was about mid-way between the East and West Coasts.
On the other hand, for all that we accomplished by forever changing the social landscape of America, we dropped the ball when the political going got tough. The setbacks of the 80s were depressing. We retreated into our own progressive, social bubbles. We moved to the coasts as soon as we could, where we had critical mass. And we are leaving the world today at the worst of times. I hope that the “arc of the moral universe” is indeed bending for the better, but it is hard to see it in the moment.
Writes Cathy - “I feel so fortunate to have experienced Wheatley. I don’t know anyone who has so many high school friends with whom they are still in touch. The Newsletter is the icing on the cake! Thanks to everyone who contributed.”
1970 - Dana Seman - Deceased
Dana is on the right in the top photo and on the left in the bottom photo
Writes 1970 Class Correspondent Jane Roeder - “It is with great sadness that I share the news of Dana Seman’s passing. We all loved Dana! ❤
I hope you love seeing Dana’s radiant smile in these reunion photos as much as I do. You can also feel Dana’s positive energy while reading her obit in the Tribeca Trib and watching this iMovie created by her dear friend, Audrey Higbee.
With much love to all of you,
Jane
Writes Art Engoron (1967) - Dana lived in the tall apartment building at 40 Harrison Street (part of “Independence Plaza,” appropriately enough), in downtown Manhattan, near where I work. In or around 2010 we got together at least twice, once for lunch and once to exercise together in a gym. She was a personal trainer, among her other skills and talents, and she determinedly pointed out all the flaws in form in my workout routine. We kept in touch sporadically after that, and her death shocks and saddens me; I had no idea she was ill. She was strong, opinionated, and lived life on her own terms, like we all should.
Obituary: Dana Seman, 69, Trib Ad Director
Dana Seman, the Tribeca Trib’s director of advertising for 25 years and a resident of Independence Plaza in Tribeca since 1974, died on June 16 from cancer at age 69. Though in hospice care during her last month of life, Seman insisted on working with clients until just two weeks before her death. Following is a remembrance by Trib publisher April Koral, who worked closely with Seman during her many years with our publication.
Dana’s formal title was Advertising Director, but that was misleading. She was also the office's high priestess of sorts, weighing in on the paper's cover, trying to sway editorial decisions, and offering her opinions about design. Carl Glassman (the editor) and I sometimes bridled at her suggestions. The printer was waiting for the issue, we were tired, it was okay the way it was. But as much as we hated to admit it, Dana was often right.
Dana's career at the Trib began with a chance encounter with Carl on Hudson and Reade Streets. "We're looking for someone to work with April and sell ads," he happened to mention to her. "I can do that!" she replied. And so she began. Dana had never sold an ad before.
She had grown up in Roslyn Heights, Long Island, and after two years at Skidmore, had transferred to Dartmouth, joining the first class of women graduates. Faculty and students were not always welcoming. Just a few weeks ago, Dana told me a story about being accosted by a professor as she was crossing the campus green. "So you're here to get your MRS?" the professor, a woman, said to her aggressively before marching off.
A woman of many talents, Dana was a dancer, calligrapher, and actress. By profession she was a personal trainer, focusing on healing through movement and touch. Perhaps it appealed to her in the same way as improving The Tribeca Trib. By studying the way her clients moved, sat and otherwise held their bodies she was able to help them make life-changing adjustments. Some of them found relief from pain that they had had for years. Her fingers were magic.
To master her craft, Dana was perpetually studying, taking classes in the fields of Body-Mind Centering, Cranial Sacral Massage, Zero Balancing, and Feldenkrais, for which she earned a certification. On more than one occasion, she opined about the way I walked or sat or held my body. I didn't like it. But of course Dana was right and I slowly began changing my ways.
When she started working for us, many of Tribeca's small stores were owned by local residents. Dana went around to all of them and got to know the owners and managers. In the beginning, I was afraid they might be put off by a saleswoman stopping by. But, I was soon proved wrong. I would regularly run into store owners on the street who gushed about Dana. "Dana is so nice." "Dana is so sweet." "Tell Dana to come by." And, needless to say, Dana was there to help them improve their businesses. She gave advice about their websites, their ads, their…everything. And, yes, Dana was usually right.
A few days before she died, Dana and I had this text exchange.
Dana: The Trib job has been so good for me. I learned a lot from you and Carl and it used other parts of my brain than bodywork.
Me: It is you I have to thank. I learned so much from you! Sometimes I will be careless in doing something and I say to myself, "Stop, do it like Dana would!"
I was very saddened to read the obituary in the Trib about Dana. It was always a pleasure to run into Dana around the neighborhood. The twinkle in her eye and her optimistic demeanor were most valued and very appreciated. Randy Hardy
We opened our Gallerie Antiqueria Tribeca in April of 2000. It was an exciting and yet a scary time to open a business in a neighborhood quite unfamiliar to us. Dana soon wished us well. Her gentle demeanor, knowledge of the neighborhood and smart business advice are still vividly in my mind. That was the start of our many years of advertising in the Tribeca Trib as well as a close relationship with Dana. I very much looked forward to her weekly visits inquiring about business, family and life in general. Always a smile and a friendly face. She will be greatly missed by all who had the good fortune to cross her path. Marion and Peter Feig
I had the privilege of knowing Dana over something like 25 years. When I think of her today, I think of her sweetness and lovely manner. She would stop in the street to say hello and gift you with her wonderful smile and the sense that she was so glad to have run into you. She always left me feeling so happy to have seen her. Barrie Mandel
I am so sorry to read about the passing of Dana Seman. I remember her well from those early years when I advertised in your print editions. She really worked with me. I had no idea about her body work; fascinating to know that now. Suellen Epstein
Sad news. Sorry for your loss and the community's loss as well. Allan Tannenbaum
Tribeca has lost the sweetest smile on the streets. So very, very sad. Deborah Lupard
Dana was always so lovely, one of the true Tribeca locals who knew everyone in the neighborhood. Always so nice to run into her through the years, have a street corner chat...may she rest in peace. Rob Asen
Oh goodness, I am so sorry to hear this. I only knew Dana for about a year while working at the Trib, but she was a very memorable person. She was always full of energy, warmth, and positivity. Aline Reynolds Khan
Dana brought a lot of life to the Trib office, and I’m so sorry to learn of her passing. Elizabeth Miller
I am so very sorry to hear about this. She was my neighbor and always such a lovely person, personally and professionally. Peter Comitini
This is incredibly sad news…Dana was always so nice and I always enjoyed seeing her in the neighborhood.... Jeffrey Tabak
I remember Dana well—so sad to hear! Amanda Nicole Wood
Dana was a lovely woman, so helpful as a personal trainer, and a good human being. Mafa Jane
Oh no! How sad for all of us. Madeline Lanciani
Condolences. What a lovely person?!
Amy Bergenfeld
A Remembrance
My friend Dana was a Master Imaginer.
From the very beginning when we met in 1973 when she came to live in the communal house we had in Hanover, until a couple of weeks ago when she could no longer engage in conversation beyond making known her basic needs and desires, Dana engaged whoever was playful, willing and daring enough in creating worlds of wonder, delight and sometimes surreal experience. The participants in these creative endeavors were not limited to friends—Dana extended this invitation to anyone she encountered: waiters in restaurants, cab drivers, chemotherapy nurses. She would even extend feelers to earnest, humorless doctors (with mixed results).
The conversations usually began innocently enough with a person—e.g. a chemotherapy nurse— asking while starting an IV “what do you have planned for the weekend” knowing that Dana was diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer and was too weak to walk. Dana might respond with “I’m flying to Paris to have lunch with a friend.” A playful, willing and daring nurse would respond with “Oh, I know a great place on the Left Bank,” and they’d be off and running, talking about what to order, the kinds of cooking oils the place used (Dana could only eat olive and avocado oil), the vintage of the wine, the decor down to minute details, and then an extension of the adventure to activities following the meal to include a detailed description of a walk along the Seine. Underlying these forays into limitless worlds was always a sense of kindness, generosity of spirit, love—even when the expeditions incorporated irony or a little cynicism, just for the fun of it.
My favorite exchanges with Dana would take flight into the surreal—flying on the back of a sea turtle to a land governed by talking fish and orangutans, pretend playing with Barbie dolls with Ivanka Trump as Barbie and Donald as Ken.
When Dana passed on this morning—left her body, died, however you conceive of that state of being/non-being following what we call life—I tried to imagine there being no Dana, no more Dana worlds, no more Master Imaginer. But I am not creative enough to imagine such a thing. So I am left to wonder what amazing experiences Dana will create without having to rely on the material limitations of synaptic transmissions. Whatever they are will be filled with love, whimsy, funky music and light.
Dream on, beautiful Dana.
—Audrey Higbee
1975 - Dan Weiss - Moving On
Dear Friends,
I am writing to share the news that I have informed the Board of my intention to step down as President and CEO on June 30, 2023, after eight years of service.
It has been an extraordinary privilege to have served as president of The Met. Together, we have weathered unprecedented challenges and realized many new opportunities. I am enormously proud of what we have accomplished, even as I recognize that our work is unfinished. As you have likely heard me say over the years, we are stewards of this great institution, both for the present and for the future, which requires under the best of circumstances that leadership changes be made in times of progress and positive momentum.
Whereas there is no perfect time for changes in leadership, I believe that the Museum is in a strong position, with healthy and stable finances; unprecedented levels of investment in our collection, facilities, and people; momentum in advancing a new and exciting programmatic vision; and a professional community of extraordinary talent and dedication. Working at The Met has been the most rewarding and inspiring experience of my career.
In the coming year the Museum will have the time we need to outline plans for a smooth transition, which will include my working closely with the Board, Marina Kellen French Director Max Hollein, and senior leadership to make sure that we maintain momentum around our core priorities. We will have much to accomplish in the years ahead. As we have all learned while facing so many challenges, the work that we do matters a great deal in the world. Perhaps now more than ever, through your dedication and service, the Museum can help our community, nation, and the world to find common ground in our shared humanity and a renewed sense of purpose for the difficult work ahead.
I am deeply grateful for your support of The Met.
Sincerely,
Daniel H. Weiss President and CEO
Fan Mail
1961 (Jill Davidson Blaney) - ❤️
1965 (Phyllis Galella Luckey) - ❤️
1965 (Ron Judkoff) - “Great issue. Thanks for bringing back powerful memories.”
1965 (Judy Lutrin Sidran) - 👏
1965 (Josh Wilner) - “Always fun to scroll through the newsletter looking for tidbits. Thanks and kudos to you and Keith both!”
1967 (Jill Simon Forte) - “Seeing the Newsletter makes me smile. Last time Bob thought I saw it already and got rid of it 🙄; now he knows to ask 😜😆. I enjoy the newsletters more than I ever enjoyed going to school 😄😄😄😄😄😄😉 . Nice photo of you and the two other Wildcats😍.”
1967 (Barbara Smith Stanisic) - ❤️
1968 (Patti Garin Abelson) - “Thanks for the Newsletters.”
1968 (Shelly Levinthal) - ❤️
1969 (Madlyn Nathanson Flavell) - “Thanks for keeping us all posted in such positive ways!”
1970 (Cathy Gerson) - “Thank you for all you do.”
1970 (Deborah Silverman Sloyer) - “Thanks for keeping us updated.”
1971 (Jim Schaus, Jr.) - “Thank you for your tireless efforts over the years to connect Wheatley alumni, sharing photos and stories of our formative years and lives after Wheatley.”
1972 (Robin Freier Edwards) - “Thanks so much for another great newsletter! (I especially liked your addendum as to the origin of the name of the yearbook! 👍🏻🤣)
1972 (Lori Waltzer Bernstein) - “I'm grateful to all who make these newsletters happen and to all who contribute, giving each edition a rich depth of content, emotion and camaraderie.”
1974 (Joyce Comito Friedman) - ❤️
1974 (Frank Russo Labriola) - ❤️
1976 (Robin Firetog Glanzberg) - ❤️
1976 (Ted Lipsky) - “Thank you for continuing to send this regularly. It is always a worthwhile read, and I am happy to see what is happening with this great school and the amazing graduates it always produces.”
Closing
That’s it for The Wheatley School Alumni Association Newsletter # 74. Please send me your autobiography before someone else sends me your obituary.
Art, this was (another) sensational newsletter. Hi Marshall how are you have time to produce this terrific and news filled document while you are making news behind the bench. Bravo! Louise Kampa Triano 1965
How I managed to translate how you manage to Hi Marshall I will never know!!🤣
Art, this was (another) sensational newsletter. Hi Marshall how are you have time to produce this terrific and news filled document while you are making news behind the bench. Bravo! Louise Kampa Triano 1965