Florence & Bryan McFadden, our hosts
Lobsterfest: Michal, Paul, Mike, Ruth, Bryan's Mom (Guest of Honor)
Lynn Brown & Mike Thorburn
Kerala PCV's, only
Paul, Bryan, Tom --Bob H., Don, Ken, Mike --Wally, Larry
Mike Berry, Ken French & Paul Stefanacci
Mike Thorburn & Will Guazzaloca
Ladies, only
Those in traditional Indian garb, only
PCV's, only
Bob Hanson, Don Clement & Tom McGarry 
Bryan McFadden, Ruth (Kister) Berry & Hugh Brown
Alpheen (Thekaekara) Menachery & Paul Stefanacci
Paul Stefanacci & Hugh Brown
Paul Stefanacci, Diane Clement, Bob Alexander & Will Guazzaloca
Merlyn (Thekaekara) Fernandez, Don Clement & Will Guazzaloca
Will, Merlyn, Larry, Florence & Alpheen
Bryan McFadden
Alpheen, Paul, Merlyn & Don
JoAnn (Vogel) Skutch & Alpheen (Thekaekara) Menachery
Bryan McFadden & Wally Tyner
Mike Berry, JoAnn (Vogel) Skutch & Larry Evans
Alpheen (Thekaekara) Menachery, Bryan McFadden & Paul Stefanacci
Candee Evans, Diane Clement, Paul & Michal Stefanacci
Tom McGarry & Larry EvansINDIA-33 37TH YEAR REUNION
September 9-11, 2005
(Diane’s observations in blue)
Independence Air is a great discount airline. There are no frills to be sure. But their fleet consists of small planes that deplane in about 15 minutes. If your carry-on baggage doesn't fit in the overhead, they just throw it in the back of the plane in the cargo area. Since they aren't a huge airline, they only have a few gates, so there’s no need to be in what is usually the busiest part of most big airports. They are really not bad for short flights. It took us one hour from Charleston to Dulles Airport in Washington, D.C. Then it took forty-five minutes from D.C. to Newark. It was just super. And, they hire women with big butts. I felt at home.
I made a most ungraceful arrival at Newark Airport. I decided, when confronted with descending the escalator to the baggage claim area, to roll my luggage before rather than behind me. Upon reaching the bottom, my luggage wheels became stuck in the escalator grate. With my bags at my feet blocking my way and the escalator continuing to move me forward, (ala, “What happens when an immovable object meets an irresistible force?”) I started to tumble forward over my bags. Diane was close behind me and stepped around me, unhurt. Somehow I then fell backwards coming down hard on my right pelvic bone. Immediately people rushed to rescue me. I managed to get back up on my feet quickly, gathered up my bags, and tried to pretend that nothing had happened. I ended up with a bruise on my bottom and one on my ego. Ruth and Mike, who were to pick us up, were outside and saw none of this. I would have been embarrassed had they witnessed my fall. (Like, “Wow! He’s not aging well. Is he?”)
The India-33 people have to be the nicest, kindest people I have ever met. Don and I didn't even need to rent a car. Outside, we found the Berry’s and climbed into their rental car. Ruth and Mike drove an hour each way from Bryan’s house to deliver us to the event. They had flown in the day before from California.
Trying to find our way out of the airport and onto the Garden State Parkway became another comedy of errors. The highway signs might just as well have been written in Sanskrit. They were so confusing! After circling the airport three times and taking numerous wrong turns we got on the right road and proceeded to Bay Head.
We arrived at the McFadden’s at about 1:30 PM on that perfect Friday afternoon. Bryan greeted us with hugs as we stepped onto the back yard deck. I spied Paul and Michal Stefanacci seated at the patio table and soon there was another round of hugs. Hugs abounded throughout the weekend. Soon Florence appeared, then Alpheen Thekaekara Menachery and her husband, Prem. And, on and on. Throughout the day and into the evening people kept arriving: Larry and Candee Evans, Mike Thorburn and his partner Will, JoAnn and RickVogel-Skutch, Merlyn Thekaekara Fernandez, Carol Reichert and her partner Susan, Lark Stevens, Tom Carter, Tom McGarry, Wally Tyner, Bob Hanson, Neal and Judy Barille, Hugh and Lynn Brown, Richard and Linda Schaye, Ken and Yvonne French and Bob Alexander and his wife, Julie.
The remarkable thing, to use Mike Thorburn’s words, was that we all seemed to carry on where we had left off at mid-sentence thirty-seven years ago. It was as if someone had clicked the “pause” button on the remote control in 1968 and clicked “play” again in 2005. Everyone seemed so comfortable. There were no strangers among us, including spouses. Diane hit it off with everybody. They all loved her wit and humor.
Now, I’m not saying that if any of us had passed any other of us on the sidewalk we would even have done a double take. But, once the gray hair, turkey wattles, extra weight and other outward signs of “maturity” were conveniently incorporated into our perceptions, we would have known us anywhere.
The moments spent chatting with these friends from my youth were so special. I didn’t want to pull myself away even to use the bathroom. There was so much love that I’m sure the glow from the McFadden’s back yard must have been visible from Space.
When we arrived at the house, everyone came running to see Donald. I have never seen anything like it. The women kissed on him, the men hugged him. He was in his glory, happy as a clam.
Paul was once a physical therapist and is now doing massage. I had a terrible headache and he gave me a very good massage that ended my headache for the entire weekend. He and Michal flew in from Colorado.
Bryan truly loves Don. He told me several times that Don got him through the depression and homesickness that all of the volunteers experienced while away from their families for two years.
JoAnn was another one that truly loves Don. She had a wonderful wit. She remembered when they were in training and housed in huts; the single women would go into Don's hut every night and kiss him on his forehead and tuck him in. She and Rick live in New York City. Jo Ann could easily be my best friend; I thought she was a hoot.
Larry Evans wasn't there when we arrived, although he and Candy had arrived from Seattle the day before. He cried when he saw Don for the first time and when he said goodbye.
Both of Tom McGarry’s adult boys were born with Muscular Dystrophy. Chris just passed away and Matt is in the end stages. Tom’s wife didn't come because she stayed with Matt. Good old Tom, just another wonderful guy.
Only one volunteer has passed away of the group and all but three, John Anderson, Ed Collins and Paul Parker, came to New Jersey for the party. There were 34 of us. Many of the guys came alone but just as many brought their spouses.
Two of the neatest Indian women, Alpheen and Merlyn, were there. Their parents, George and Marian Thekaekara, were the volunteers' language instructors in St. Croix. In India, they opened their home to the group and comforted them when they needed family interaction. The women were 18 and 19 years old at the time and remembered every thing about the Peace Corps folks. George had planned to come from India, but he passed away a month ago at the age of 89. Merlyn and Alpheen loved their dad and were so proud of both of their parents. These two with the help of Alpheen’s husband, Prem, cooked South Indian food all weekend long, in great quantity. The food was wonderful and was eaten as fast as they could prepare it. Alpheen and Prem live in Boston. Both of them are very bright with wonderful personalities. Merlyn lives in Malaysia and is widowed; she is a doctor. I gave her the prize for coming the farthest. She kept telling me she loved my personality. Both of them remembered almost everything about Don; both told me how their parents loved him.
Carol Reichert and her partner Susan have bought a house in Gujarat and spend quite a bit of time there with Carol’s adopted family.
Mike Thorburn and his partner, Will, live in San Francisco. Will lost his leg in a terrible automobile accident and Mike hung in there with him.
After dining on mutton biriyani and tandoori barbequed chicken we cleared the table and assembled the entourage in the dining room. Ruth had solicited trivia questions prior to the reunion and prepared index cards, each with a question. John Anderson had contributed some of the question, some were from Ruth and some were mine. A competition ensued pitting one side of the room against the other. Larry and Alpheen quickly emerged as their team’s most valuable players. Hilarity followed when, jogged by the trivia questions, our memories flickered to life with related humorous events. I played “game-show host” and am told that my performance was superb. So, what did you expect?
Friday evening after everyone else had either gone to bed or back to their hotels, Diane and Bryan and I sat out on the deck in the cool night air talking and drinking wine until 2 AM. I think Diane felt nearly as close to Bryan as I did. She was welcome to sit and remember with me and my other best friend. This guy from my deep past is like no other friend I’ve ever had or will ever have.
Saturday morning, I was up early and showered and then it was over to the house for coffee. Diane and I bunked in one room of the guest cottage, Mike and Will in the other. Alpheen and Prem were already busy preparing the dosa; authentic south Indian masala dosa. Is it possible for it to get any better than this? I don’t think so. We all picked up where we had left off the night before.
Don and his Peace Corps group raised over $10,000 to send to the fishing villages of South India that were totally wiped out in the Tsunami. Alpheen and Merlyn’s brother, Stan, who still lives in India and works to help the poor fishermen there, traveled down the coast to see what they needed the most. Alpheen brought pictures to show us where the money went. Not one dime went to administrative costs and what was accomplished was really cool.
These fishermen understand how to fish the waters to catch every type of fish that is in their diets. Some of the money bought wood. Big fishing boats were built and painted in bright colors to support those who do the fishing near the coast. Medium size boats were made for fishing closer to shore and a large boat was purchased for deep-sea fishing.
New houses were built for the fishermen and their families. These were made of wood and thatch and designed with the kitchen in a location convenient to both the inside and the outside. This is what the people wanted. They didn't need anything fancy.
Bolts of colorful cloth were purchased and the women made wonderful clothes from the fabric.
The sensitivity that was used to bring back these fishing villages was the best part. These people live simply and they like it that way. The fishing economy is a fragile one.
I say Kudos for Don and Bryan’s hard work in raising the money. This also began the hunting down of volunteers that lost touch over the years. Once Don, Ruth and Bryan found each of the volunteers, the idea of the reunion began.
At lunchtime Ruth herded us all to the deck for a roundtable discussion of the changes that have taken place in India since 1968. Several members of the group had been back for visits. It was very informative and enjoyable to hear the various accounts from different perspectives.
Alpheen and Prem were preparing an Indian feast assisted by several worker bees. The smells were of pungent Indian spices and exotic ingredients and were a portent of things to come.
As the group began to reconvene for dinner some of the guests appeared in traditional Indian garb: Exquisite saris, brightly colored Punjabi dresses and scarves. Paul was the only male to appear in a lungi, the typical wrap around garment worn by Malayalee men. Then it was group photo time; Gujaratis only, Keralites only, native garb only, women only, spouses only.
A feast fit for a maharajah was served buffet-style. It was a treat not only for the palette, but also for the eyes and nose. Large bowls and platters of rice dishes, dals, curried meats, pappadams, yogurt and mango salsa were spread before us. We scattered throughout the house to wherever there was sitting space to devour our meal and continue our fellowship.
Still stuffed from our sumptuous repast, once again we cleared the table and gathered around the edges of the dining room. Ruth made a few remarks, explaining the special photo albums we put together for the families of our deceased friends, Dan Foley and George Thekaekara. She went on to introduce Merlyn’s entertainment. Merlyn kept the audience in stitches as she performed a skit in which she played the parts of Indians from various states. For each character, she used the appropriate Indian-English dialect. Who knew she was so multi-talented?
And then the spotlight was on me, again. I spoke from notes I had prepared a few days before. I did a little reminiscing, a few jokes about our advanced age, remembered George and Dan and read my Top Ten Reasons You Know It’s Been 37 Years Since We’ve Been Together. Again, I am told, my performance was stunning. It’s amazing what being with a crowd of very old friends can do for one’s ego. Here’s my speech:
INDIA-33 REUNION GALA
September 9th through 11th, 2005
Don Clement – Master of Ceremonies
It is, in deed, my great honor to be the Master of Ceremonies on this auspicious occasion. As I look across the room I don’t see a single face that I recognize. Who are you people and what are you doing at my reunion? Who would have thought in 1968 that thirty-seven years later I would be here with all these senior citizens reminiscing about those wonderful two years we spent together in our youth?
In 1968 we had never heard of HIV/AIDS, open-heart surgery, cholesterol and triglicerides, antioxidants and omega-3 oils, CT Scans and MRI’s, PC’s, laptops, scanners, iPods and xBoxes. Add to that list IMAX, surround sound, Dolby digital, VCR’s, CD’s, cell phones and DVD’s. Hell, we had just been introduced to 8-Tracks and cassette recorders. Technicolor and air conditioning hadn’t been around that long. It was a simpler time in a slightly safer world.
Who can forget the orange sun setting into the Arabian Sea from the rooftop terrace of the Sea Lord Hotel, the shrimp nets and fishing boats silhouetted in the foreground? Who remembers the feast of suckling pig at the Royal Hotel on the beach at Goa? The pig, moments earlier, had run, squealing, across our feet in the barroom. Another evening on that same beach we dined on freshly caught lobster. And then there was the girl who could uncap a beer bottle with her teeth. Who can forget? The Gujarat group, that’s who. Hopefully, they have their own whole set of romanticized memories to ponder.
Remember the bus ride on our arrival in India from the airport to our hotel in New Delhi? I remember the throngs of people and animals lining the road, and in the road; the sites, the smells the sounds; bicycles, rickshaws, bullock carts, cows, goats, chickens, horns blowing, bells clanging, beggars; culture shock; the hurried trip to Agra by car; the long train ride to Trivandrum; the whirlwind tour of Kerala; and finally, the arrival at our respective farms.
After weeks and months of preparations, visits and correspondence with the Junior Engineers, District Engineers and Panchayat Presidents, our first batch of baby White Leghorn chicks arrived and we felt that at last our mission had really begun. Names like Thomas, Menon and Nambiar became part of our daily vocabulary.
When we needed to recharge our batteries and have a home-cooked meal, our adoptive family, the Thekaekaras, was there in Banswadi with open arms. Their family was our family, George and Marian, their beautiful and brilliant daughters, Merlyn and Alpheen, their handsome and bright sons, Stan and Phillip. George planned on being here with us this weekend. Somehow, I think he is. We are all better people because we were fortunate enough to know him. Our buddy, Dan Foley, is also missed. But, I’d like to think that his spirit is here with us, as well.
So many memories. Bob Alexander kept us “connected” with his annual holiday newsletter up through 1986 and I thank him for it. Let’s find a way to stay in touch now. Maybe someone in our midst will carry the torch. I hope so.
In closing, (applause, applause), I leave you with the:
TOP TEN REASONS YOU KNOW IT’S BEEN NEARLY 40 YEARS SINCE WE WERE ALL TOGETHER
Ø 10. You quit trying to hold your stomach in, no matter who walks into the room.
Ø 9. You buy a compass for the dash of your car/truck.
Ø 8. You are proud of your lawn mower.
Ø 7. Your best friend is dating someone half his or her age, and isn't breaking any laws.
Ø 6. People call at 9:00 PM and ask, "Did I wake you?"
Ø 5. Your ears are hairier than your head.
Ø 4. You have a party and the neighbors don't even realize it.
Ø 3. You got cable for The Weather Channel.
Ø 2. You're asleep, but others worry that you're dead.
Ø 1. You talk about "good grass" and you're referring to someone's lawn.
Being here with you all this weekend has been like traveling back in time and it’s been grand. And, we owe Bryan and Florence a great debt of gratitude for making their home and hospitality available to us. Bryan and Florence, thank you from the bottom of our hearts.
After supper and festivities, another round of one-on-one and small group conversations ensued; waxing nostalgic and catching up on thirty-seven years of living. Gradually the crowd grew smaller as the evening waned, and eventually Diane, Bryan and I found ourselves the last ones standing. Again, we talked and sipped wine until the wee hours of the morning before finally giving in to our heavy eyelids.
Sunday morning brought more hot coffee, fresh masala dosas, bagels, pastries and Bryan’s own creation, an egg, cheese and sausage dish. Everything was delicious. Slowly, people began to say their farewells, followed by more hugs and promises to stay in touch. Finally it was time for Diane and I and Ruth and Mike to head back to the Newark Airport.
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