Here's What Makes an Amazing Jewish Leader

This day, as a new crop of Reform Jewish clergy was ordained as rabbis and cantors, seems a most fitting time to publish thoughts about two of my own beloved Jewish teachers and leaders. I was honored to speak about each one recently -- although these words hardly begin to scratch the surface of my admiration, respect, and esteem for them.

On Saturday, April 6, I introduced Rabbi Eric Yoffie, president emeritus of the Union for Reform Judaism, who was this year's Diana S. Herman Memorial Scholar-in-Residence at Temple Emanu-El in Edison, NJ. Here's what I said that afternoon:

Rabbi Eric Yoffie’s website describes him as “a bold, inspiring, and passionate speaker on Israel, interfaith dialogue, church-state issues, and American religious life.”

Wikipedia and the URJ’s website can fill you in on his educational background and the worship initiatives, social justice priorities, and other programs he championed during his 16-year tenure as president of the Union for Reform Judaism. 

And that is all useful and important information.  

But, I want to tell you briefly about the Eric Yoffie I know – the one who holds a special place in my heart.  

The one who quietly thinks things through, turning them over and over in his mind, carefully  examining every possible angle. 

The one who states his positions unflinchingly and with bold, concise eloquence – never backing down, no matter how fierce the opposition. 

The one who was never too busy to answer my Jewish questions, teach a bit of Torah, ask after my family, or where I would be for seder. 

The one who, running into my mom in a crowded elevator at her first URJ board meeting, didn’t miss a beat in wishing her a mazel tov on her newly minted graduate degree – and never ignored a chance to thank her and my dad for “sharing Jane with us.” 

The one who cares deeply about his own family, his friends, and, in his role as a Jewish leader, the people who worked with him and for him. 

The Eric Yoffie I know is a mensch– humble, genuine, full of integrity, with a well-calibrated moral compass that always points north. 

I’m incredibly proud and honored to have this Eric Yoffie in my world and to welcome him to Temple Emanu-El as the Diana S. Herman Memorial Scholar-in-Residence.

Earlier today, at a brunch honoring Lafayette College history professor and Hillel advisor Bob Weiner as he prepares to retire at the end of this year after 50 (yes, 50!) years  on the faculty, I had the pleasure of sharing these reminiscences:

I must have met Bob Weiner early in the fall semester in 1981. I lived in Ruef, and was just learning about pub night, “spinning disks,” and the fact that a roasted tomato sprinkled with parmesan breadcrumbs was the only vegetarian option in Marquis. 

Overwhelmed by the newness of it all, I yearned for something familiar, a pacing or rhythm I knew, something that felt a little like home. That yen landed me in Hoag Hall late on a Friday afternoon for Shabbat services. That’s where I first met Bob – 

Bob, who, over time, recognized and nurtured a spark of leadership potential that gave me enough confidence to join the Hillel board and work my way through the ranks, ultimately serving as president and organizing a Passover meal plan in the original Hillel House on McCartney Street.

Bob, who helped me design a Jewish studies minor – an offering that didn’t exist at Lafayette at the time. That cluster of courses led me to the Jewish non-profit sector, where I have spent the majority of my career. (And I’m not the only one. Following the synagogue shootings in Pittsburgh last fall, I reached out to Brian Schreiber, a fellow alum,….you know, that tall, lanky guy with the wide grin? He’s the executive director of Pittsburgh’s JCC and as he wrote to me at the time, “Bob was really the catalyst for my journey into Jewish communal life.”)

Bob, whose family has always been an integral part of his life at Lafayette. I first met Mark, his eldest son, when, as a high school senior, he and one of his classmates became my classmates when they came to campus to study in a first-year Hebrew course taught by Professor Marblestone, z’l. And, Sandy? In my mind’s eye, she’s always there – with a smile, a hug, and a kind word. And if she’s not, no doubt she’s tootling around the Lehigh Valley in her pink Mary Kay Cadillac!

Bob, who, together with Sandy, of course, (and I think I’m remembering this detail correctly) trekked to New Jersey for a sukkah party at my parents’ house, when I was living there following graduation. As Bob told me at the time, but for the fact that the Weiners lived in the Lehigh Valley and the Hermans lived in central New Jersey, he was sure the two couples would have been the best of friends.

Bob, who a few years later (and again with Sandy), attended my wedding and when the marriage dissolved,was still there with comforting words that validated the truly life-changing decision I had made.

Bob, who more recently invited me back to campus to speak at Hillel about working in the Reform Jewish world. Somewhere along the way, though, that plan got nixed in favor of a talk to a wider audience about hereditary cancer genetic mutations and my experience as a BRCA mutation carrier.

Bob, who is humble, genuine, full of integrity, caring, menschlich, and what my grandmother would call a gutte neshuma.

Bob, you and Sandy hold a special place in my Lafayette memories and in my heart. As you set off down this new path, my dad, my sister, and I wish you abundant joy, laughter, love, and all good things. Godspeed, my friend.

I am blessed to have these two Jewish leaders in my orbit, and I was grateful for the opportunity to share with others the reasons each one holds a special place in my heart.

#BlogExodus: Thank

Dear Alex,

I’ve experienced my fair share of “small Jewish world” stories – especially given that I work for Judaism’s Reform Movement – but nothing quite like what happened this week. So, I want to thank for being the catalyst that made the planets align in my world.

It started with your Facebook post:

"I am so grateful for all the Lafayette students I've worked with over the years. One of my favorites just stopped by my office and it was awesome to hear how well she is doing as a young professional in Chicago.

Shout-out to Laf alums who are my FB friends! Please comment with what year you graduated and what you are doing now."

I commented with this:

1985. Senior writer and editor at the Union for Reform Judaism, where I manage blog content and curate Ten Minutes of Torah, a featured blog post sent daily to a subscriber base of between 20,000 and 60,000 individuals.”

And then the conversation continued:

Alex: “Love it.”

Me: “And probably your ‘alumna of longest standing’ FB friend!”

Alex: “I think that honor actually belongs to Liza Roos Lucy!"

Liza: Class of '74 P '12 P '15”

Me: “Liza Roos Lucy Excellent....you win! :) Happy Friday!” 

Liza: “Jane E. Herman to be fair, I didn't know Alex from the time I was a student. I know Alex through my daughter, Elizabeth Lucy class of ’15 and because my cousin, Susan Katz is her friend.

Alex: “I think I am fortunate to know all of you!”

Me: “Liza Roos Lucy I don't know her from my student days either. I met her about five years ago when I spoke on campus as part of the Madame de Lafayette speaker series.”

This might have been the end of the conversation and the story, but for some reason, I went to Liza’s FB page to see a bit more about her and this is where the story gets a little, um, bizarre… because she’s from Honesdale, PA.

See, I have a longtime friend who is the once-a-month rabbi at historic Congregation Beth Israel, the Reform congregation in Honesdale. During the last few months, I’ve told him a few different stories, to which he’s always responded, “All roads lead to Honesdale.”

In fact, it seems they do. A while back, at a bus stop in New York City, a woman asked me about the boots I was wearing. We struck up a conversation while we waited, and I learned she has a home in Honesdale. When Gene Kelly had surgery a few months back, I saw on FB that he would be recovering at his parents’ house…in Honesdale.

And now this.

So, I sent this message and snippet of information from Liza’s FB page to my friend Elliott, who is not on FB:

Don't ask, but I'm in a FB conversation with a few people, and one of them has these "stats":

Studied at Lafayette College

Went to Wyoming Seminary Upper School

Went to Honesdale High School

Went to Wyoming Seminary Prep School

Lives in New Hope, Pennsylvania

Married

From Honesdale, Pennsylvania

All roads… 

He responded immediately: “Liza!”

Me: “You know her???”'

Elliott: “She’s a very good friend and president of the congregation.”

Me: “OMG....I'm going back on FB...this is the best small Jewish world story. OK if I share that we had this convo?”

Elliott: “Sure.”

That’s when I went back to your post and wrote this to Liza: “When I saw that you're from Honesdale, I reported in to my friend, Elliott, with whom I echat nearly daily, and, alas, another great small Jewish world story is born...Honesdale, Elliott, Laf Coll....wow!”

Here's the rest of the conversation that took place on FB Messenger.

Liza: “Whoa! You are Elliott's friend! I am president of Beth Israel in Honesdale where Smitty was rabbi for 44 years and now Elliott.”

Me: “I know!! Small, small world! I work at the URJ, where he used to work...and we've been friends for 15 years!”

Liza: “Did you speak a few years ago at a genetic counselor event?”

Me: “In Honesdale? No. At Laf Coll... yes, as a Madame de Lafayette speaker. I am a BRCA mutation carrier and very active in the hereditary cancer community, committed to raising awareness about these mutations, especially in the Ashkenazi Jewish community.”

Liza went on to tell me about her daughter, Alex, also a Laf Coll alumna and a genetic counselor specializing in breast cancer. She said that when Alex lived here in NYC, she and I spoke at a hereditary cancer event and according to Liza, “she will remember you.”

In the meantime, I was having a simultaneous conversation with Elliott…and anyone who knows me well knows that multi-tasking is not my forte.

Me: “Liza just asked me if I spoke at a genetic counselor event a few years back...the world is getting smaller by the minute!”

Elliott: “I had told her about you. Her daughter is a genetic counselor – specializing in breast cancer.”

A little while later, I connected on FB with Liza's daughter, Alex, who now lives in Philly, but we haven’t yet figured out at what event in NYC (or perhaps in Philly) we met.

Liza and I chatted a bit more before I had to get back to work, but I’m sure we’ll talk again – either on FB or perhaps even in person.

Sharing all this convoluted connectedness is not to demonstrate FB’s tremendous power of relationships, but really to thank you for expanding my Lafayette network, my genetic counselor/hereditary cancer network, and most of all, for giving me perhaps the best small Jewish world story ever!

Wishing you and your family a wonderful Easter,
~ Jane.

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima, this post is one in a series marking the days of the Jewish month of Nisan leading up to Passover, which begins at sundown on Friday, March 30, corresponding to the Hebrew date 15 Nisan 5778. If you want to play along, check out this year's #BlogExodus and #ExodusGram prompts.

Reunion Reflections

It's been 30 years -- an entire generation -- since Meryl Streep offered us her crystalline acapella rendition of Que Sera Sera, kicking off her commencement address: 

Que sera, sera
Whatever will be, will be
The future's not ours to see
Que sera, sera
What will be, will be

Ten Good Things About Today

10. It was sunny all day.

9.  Even with oversleeping, I made it to the office by 9:10 a.m.

8.  I didn't have time for breakfast at home, so I'm planning on oatmeal for dinner.

7.  There was a check in the mail. (Thanks, Mellon.  Too bad I wasn't visiting you tonight.  We'd have had a great time watching the game at the CONSOL Energy Center.)

Football Tutor Wanted

Although it's nearly a year away, my college roommate and I already are talking about getting tickets for the 2014 Lafayette-Lehigh game, which will be the 150th meeting of the two teams, and is the most played college rivalry in the country.  The game is slated for Yankee Stadium, which is, compared to either Lafayette or Lehigh, right in my backyard, and, best of all, easily accessible by public transportation.

Yesterday when I checked the Lafayette Leopards' official athletic site, however, I found this message:

The initial allotment of tickets for the 150th Lafayette-Lehigh football game, hosted by Lafayette at Yankee Stadium on Saturday, Nov. 22, 2014 at 3:30pm, have been exhausted.  Additional tickets have been requested from the Yankees.

Class of 2014 will be considered students for the 150th -You will be able to purchase when the student allotment goes on sale in April.

Aside from the fact that we can't yet get tickets (never mind that there's a grammatical error in the text of the message), I have another problem:  despite possessing a fine liberal arts education from one of the aforementioned schools, I don't understand the first thing about how football is played.

When I attended football games in high school--generally only on Thanksgiving, when Franklin played Piscataway, its arch rival, in a homecoming match-up--friends repeatedly would attempt to explain the basics to me, but as I told them each year after the game, "By the time I figured out which way Franklin was supposed to be running, they were supposed to be running the other way."  Despite my best efforts and exceedingly competent tutoring, I just never seemed to catch on.

Sadly, I'm not overly optimistic that the NFL's Beginner's Guide to Football, Football Rules and Basics for Dummies, or Football 101 - The Basics of Football will be of much help.

My best hope when it comes to learning about football between now and next November is that a few friends and acquaintances who are fans of this crazy, confusing game, and also happen to hold the title "rav," (which, in its purest sense, means "teacher"), might be willing to step up to the plate (I know, I know, that's baseball terminology) to teach me the basics of football as though it was the aleph bet.

What do you say, rabbinic football fans?  Are you up for the challenge?

Que Sera, Sera

This week's RemembeRED writing prompt from The Red Dress Club:

It's that time of year...graduation.

For this week's prompt we are asking you to remember a graduation.  It doesn't have to be yours and it doesn't have to be high school.

With a solid blast of Baroque trumpets as background, four-hundred and ninety eight of us followed Meryl Streep as though she was the Pied Piper.  Guided by the mortarboard perched atop her long auburn waves, we trekked like a flock of bats behind her:  up the hill from the field house, past the ‘Pard statue, across the campus’ one road and into our assigned seats in the grid of white chairs splayed out in front of the library like tombstones in a World War II cemetery.

When it was her turn to speak, she approached the podium, but before she uttered a word, her voice rang out in clear, sweet song:

When I was just a little girl
I asked my mother, what will I be
Will I be pretty, will I be rich
Here's what she said to me.

Que Sera, Sera,
Whatever will be, will be
The future's not ours, to see
Que Sera, Sera
What will be, will be.

The actress’ a cappella rendition of Doris Day’s classic was an apt lesson for all of us that day.  Perched on the brink of the rest of our lives, we certainly did not know then (nor do we ever really know) what awaits us around the next bend.  Twenty-six years later, that lesson still rings true for me.  More important, I know--as I believe I knew then--that no matter how bumpy the path, my family and friends, my quality education, and my gut will always help to steer me in the right direction.  After all, they haven’t failed me yet.

Que Sera, Sera,
Whatever will be, will be
The future's not ours, to see
Que Sera, Sera
What will be, will be.

Remembe(RED) is the memoir meme of The Red Dress Club.  Thanks for reading...and feel free to offer thoughts, ideas and/or constructive criticism.  I appreciate hearing what you have to say.

To Lafayette, For Auld Lang Syne

At some point this weekend, I’m going with a friend to see It’s Complicated with Meryl Streep, Alec Baldwin and Steve Martin. I’ve been a Meryl Streep fan since she co-starred with Dustin Hoffman in Kramer vs. Kramer back in 1979.

Six years later, in the spring of 1985, 497 classmates and I followed her, her auburn curls cascading from under a black mortarboard, from Lafayette College’s Kirby Field House, up the hill, across a corner of the quad to the steps of Skillman Library, where our families and friends waited to celebrate our graduation with us.

We’d all traveled far—including Ms. Streep—to be there that day. A few days earlier, she’d flown from Kenya, where the filming of Out of Africa was in full swing, and to where she would return shortly after our commencement, the College’s 150th. She kicked off her remarks with a beautiful a cappella rendition of Que Sera Sera and before long the Class of 1985 was, indeed, off to see whatever would be. (In between she told us about the scene in the movie in which Robert Redford washes her hair and that although it had to be shot and re-shot many times, she didn't mind.)

This spring, many of us will return to Easton to celebrate the 25th anniversary of that day, our Lafayette experience, and what indeed has been. Twenty-five years is a long time. In fact, it’s a generation, although I’d never really thought about it that way before.

That is, until yesterday. That’s when I was schmoozing with two colleagues, who, like me, are graduates of other of Pennsylvania’s small, private liberal arts colleges. Madeline is a recent alumna of Muhlenberg College in Allentown and Ben is an even more recent graduate of Franklin and Marshall College in Lancaster. Although my days on campus were much longer ago than either of theirs, we still shared common experiences and “take aways” about which we reminisced—small classes, professors who knew us personally, a high quality education (that gains value with each passing year), tour guiding (I know, it really isn’t a verb), dorm life and drinking. (Yes, before I ever set foot in a classroom on campus, I was introduced to “bug juice,” a sugary concoction of grain alcohol and Kool-Aid that most often was “eloquently” ladled from an industrial-sized garbage can lined with a plastic bag into plastic drinking cups in fraternities' basement bar rooms. Indeed, much of my Lafayette education occurred in settings other than classrooms.)

When Ben told us about how he often walked prospective students and their parents from the administration building where he had a work-study job to the one where the admissions office was housed, I was reminded of my own tour of the F&M campus during the summer of 1980. In January of 1981, my father and I returned to Lancaster, this time for my interview in the admissions office. It was inauguration day and throughout our westward trek, the car radio brought us the proceedings underway in Washington—and the associated release of 53 American hostages who had been held captive for 444 days in the American Embassy in Tehran, marking the end of the Iran hostage crisis.

As I concluded my reminiscence of that historic day, it occurred to me that these two colleagues were probably too young to remember it.

Me: You probably don’t even remember that, do you? Do you even know about the Iranian hostage crisis?

Ben: Yes, I know about it, but there was no Ben Fink.

Ben: There was no Miriam Fink.

Ben: There wasn’t even a Nathaniel Fink.

* * *

According to Wikipedia, the site to which every good academic turns for basic information about just about anything, “…auld lang syne literally means ‘old long since,’ but a more idiomatic English translation would be something like ‘long long ago,’ ‘days of long ago,’ or ‘olden days.’ ‘For old times' sake,’ or ‘to the (good) old days,’ or ‘To days (or times) gone by’ may be modern-day expressions, in common use as toasts, that capture the spirit of ‘for auld lang syne.’”

To F&M, for auld lang syne.

To Muhlenberg, for auld lang syne.

To Lafayette, for auld lang syne.

The Riches of Friendship

Having packed bags, made weekend arrangements for husbands, kids and pets, and traveled from three different states, we four forty-somethings were gathered in Julie’s kitchen in Ridgefield, Connecticut by seven on Friday evening and, in the ensuing forty-something hours, barely left the casual comfort of her great room. Sure, we poked around in the downtown shops on Saturday morning, had a bite of lunch at Fifty Coins, rented a cute, feel-good movie for Saturday night and took a dip or two in the pool, but mostly we reminisced about the past, caught up on the here and now, and planned our next get-together.

Our past includes one year as floor mates in Ruef Hall, one as apartment mates in Watson Courts and 24-plus as friends who, although often in touch only at the holidays and birthdays, are always close in each others’ hearts. As though we were lunching back at our little table in the Courts, The Young and the Restless on in the background, we recalled Julie’s stay in Easton Hospital to fight a mono infection, Laneco runs in my clunky Dodge Aspen, Deedee’s nice-guy boyfriend Hal, and Terry’s phone calls from England during her semester abroad. Oh yes, in between our soap-opera-watching lunches, our Sunday night sorority meetings, our pub night dancing escapades at fraternities and our countless upper class meal plan dinners at KDR, we went to class, studied, wrote papers, took tests and absorbed the fine liberal arts and engineering education we were fortunate to have available to us.

As far as the here and now, we shared family photos, kvetched about in-laws, provided updates about spouses, parents, siblings, kids, jobs and dates, compared cholecystectomy scars and hypertension meds and, to a person, noted the ever increasing volume of the television in our parents’ homes. Thankfully, everyone there is relatively healthy and active, and we know we’re lucky that’s the case.

By Sunday afternoon, we’d laughed and cried, made a teeny-tiny dent in the catching up and agreed to gather again next year…perhaps with husbands and kids in tow. Indeed, how lucky each of us is for friends who are like family, for decades-ago memories of good times that still make us glow, and for the promise of more riches of friendship in our lives in the years and decades ahead.

Facebook, Make Me a Match!

I’m continually amazed at how helpful my Facebook community can be.

Two cases in point:

Here’s the first one: This past Monday, having finished the reading for my econ class, but still baffled by the concept of “dead weight loss,” I posted the following status update: “Jane is hoping that someone out there in Facebook-land understands dead weight loss and can explain it better than Mankiw.”

Much to my delight, I received the following explanation from Dave, a guy who sat next to me in 10th grade algebra and with whom I’ve recently connected on Facebook:

“Jane, pretty simple if you think about it personally. Dead weight losses are those transactions that are not getting done because consumers factor in the tax of the transaction and decide, ‘no, that is just too much, i.e, sales tax.’ So if a Prada bag costs $2000.00 and that is all you had to spend, but then there was a 8.375 percent New York tax on it or an additional $167.50, you might choose not to buy it at all. Those lost transactions are the dead weight and create a surplus. Does that help?”

“Yes,” I replied. “It's a perfect explanation! Thanks! Do you teach economics? Where has life taken you since high school? Hope the years have been good to you...and thanks again for the clear and concise description of dead weight loss.”

From his response back to me, I learned that today, more than three decades after we were together in Mrs. Haley’s algebra class, Dave owns a technology contracting business and he has degrees in accounting and computer science. By his own estimate, he took something like five semesters of econ as an undergraduate at the University of Maryland and loved it. In today’s business climate, he says, everyone needs to be a micro economist. Hmmmm, Dave could definitely be my new best friend…

Here’s the second case in point: The next day, upon returning with painful shins from my fairly new, early-morning treadmill routine, I posted this status update: “Jane finished 20 minutes on the treadmill at level 3 (4 mph, top speed). Could have kept going except for the burning shins. Suggestions, FB friends?”

Within minutes, my Facebook friends came through for me again.

“The elliptical is much easier on body parts,” said one, a cantor I met last year at a L’taken seminar in Washington, DC.

Two Union for Reform Judaism trustees provided almost identical advice: “Check your shoes; you may need new ones…and after about 10 minutes, stop and stretch!” they said. One went on to email me a one-page, 30-minute treadmill workout that she's used successfully.

Someone else, a friend froam Lafayette College, whom I knew through Hillel, chimed in with this: “Hi Jane. My shins also bothered me when I started the treadmill. I spend about 2 or 3 minutes stretching out my legs before I start now and no longer have the problem. I Googled exercises for shin splints and saw a couple of videos on how to do the stretches. Good luck.”

All this relatively easy-to-come-by information (thanks, everybody!) got me thinking about other useful connections my Facebook friends might be able to help me make, and it wasn't long before I was connecting the dots...

As regular readers of this blog likely know, for some time now, I’ve been in search of (most unsuccessfully, I’m afraid) a 40- to 50-something (preferably someone born during Eisenhower's second term or the Kennedy administration), decent Jewish guy (single or divorced, with kids or without) for a meaningful long-term relationship. I'll spare you the details of my seemingly endless escapades in this endeavor, "lovingly" referred to by me as "The Schmuck Parade," but you can read about some of them here and here and here and here.

Although I don’t think I’m especially fussy with my “laundry list” of desirable qualities, thus far, even in this great city of more than eight million people, I can’t seem to find even one mensch who fits the bill as a potential partner for this happily divorced Jewish woman with no kids, manageable baggage and, I think, lots to offer the right guy. But, as a colleague of mine is fond of saying about various topics at hand, “It is what it is.” And so it is. Yet, I keep looking because ultimately I believe there is somebody out there for me -- somebody with whom I'll share an intellectual, emotional and physical conection -- but I just haven't bumped into him yet. And, while I certainly don't expect Mr. Right to be perfect (I'm not, by a longshot!), I do still hold out hope that someplace in this city (yes, even in the outer boroughs, Westchester or New Jersey) exists Mr. Right Enough for Me -- and that after some getting to know each other, the feeling will be mutual.

And, although I'm far, far from desperate (I'd rather be alone than with Mr. Wrong or even with Mr. So-So), I also believe that my already rich, full life would be even richer and fuller with someone special along for the ride. I am also of the mindset that while the pixels, bits and bytes of the internet are a fine option for some (yes, I've tried JDate, match.com, speed dating, and more recently some freebies including speeddate.com and plentyoffish.com, all to no avail), for others, a "fix-up" arranged by a real, live person is a far superior choice. Lastly, I believe that as with a job search, the more people you know who know that you're looking, the better off you'll be. Who knows which one of them might have a brother, a brother-in-law, a cousin, a nephew, a friend, a colleague or an uncle who's available and willing to invest an hour over coffee or a drink to explore the possibility that maybe, just maybe, we're right for each other?!

And so yet again, my Facebook friends, I turn to you. Help me out here?

Social Networking or Blast from the Past?

Last night while waiting in Tampa for our long-delayed flight to New York, my colleagues and I had plenty of time to talk about a host of different things. Among them was Facebook, the explosively popular social networking site. One among us claimed he doesn’t want to have to accept a “friend request” from someone from 20 years ago just because the person contacts him.

Ironically, sitting in my inbox at the time of that conversation was just such a “friend request” from Craig A. Cunningham, the 1982-83 editor-in-chief of The Lafayette, the oldest college newspaper in Pennsylvania. Because I hold a different opinion of Facebook than my colleague, I accepted the request and am now “friends” with Craig. Browsing through his many on-line photos from those oh-so-long-ago days at Lafayette College in Easton, PA, I was surprised to find a “tagged” photo of (a much younger) me with other members of The Lafayette staff. Another photo, this one of Monica Van Aken, brought back memories of her oft-talked-about weekly column, “Things that Matter by Monica,” a pre-cursor to today’s blogs. In one particularly memorable installment, Monica hilariously described her adventure in moving from one dorm to another in the middle of the semester, and the ordeal of packing and schlepping all her worldly possessions across the quad to make the move.

And, although I wouldn’t say that Craig and I were friends way back when, I was, as a lowly freshman reporter, always pleased to get a call from him or one of his deputies – usually on the hallway pay phone on the third floor of Ruef Hall – asking me to cover a particular story for the paper. Following a link on his website, I found digitized images of The Lafayette and, perusing the site, located the first article I ever wrote for the paper: “Committee on Religious Program Coordinates Events on Campus,” which appeared in the October 9, 1981 edition of the paper.

Today, The Lafayette has a website of its own, Craig Cunningham is an associate professor and director of the Technology in Education Program at National-Louis University in Chicago, and Monica Van Aken is head of the Milwaukee Montessori School. Me? I’m still writing about many things, including things religious…

Thanks, Facebook.