Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Susan and Lowell in Woodstock 1967 -- Thanks to Jay Petersen
Thanks to Jay Petersen for this ... shot of Susan and Lowell at a Woodstock party in Mead's Meadow in 1967 ...The blond woman is Mrs. Jennings, the other women's namea are unknown.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Old Mill Boards and Green Sea Slates
Ah my mother Susan Bair
With two small boys and long dark hair
Set out for Paris on a whim ...
And there she met her Lucky Jim
Lowell Bair, the lowly man,
And started on her life's new plan ....
With two small boys and long dark hair
Set out for Paris on a whim ...
And there she met her Lucky Jim
Lowell Bair, the lowly man,
And started on her life's new plan ....
Susan Died During a Blizzard
My mother Susan Bair died during a blizzard Tuesday night, February 23, 2010 at age 84. She taught me to read and write using the Calvert Correspondence Course while we were living on Mallorca with her then-future second husband, Lowell Bair.
She was born Susan Wiman on August 25, 1925 in Seattle. Her great-aunt Gertrude Wiman helped chart the Straight of Juan de Fuca; and her grandfather Chaunce Wiman ferried Wobblies up to Vancouver during the “Steamboat Wars.” Her father, my Grandpa Fred, was a destroyer skipper in the Aleutians during World War II.
Susan’s wildly impulsive and often humorous intolerance of conventional restrictions, however, and also her love of literature, came from Mississippi. They came from my great-grandmother Pearl B. Winter and my great-aunt Maude Bryan. Nanny Pearl attended Agnes Scott College, then taught school in the Delta most of her life – until Mr. Winter forbade her attendance at a Women’s Suffrage meeting, whereupon she decamped for Seattle with her two children.
Susan matriculated at Radcliffe at age 16, but dropped out after the Coconut Grove Fire killed many of her friends. She went to New York to be an actress. There, after marrying a wildly improbable number of men attracted to her beautiful brunette good looks -- all the marriages were annulled by my grandmother Katie -- she met my first father, Richard Gehman, in Greenwich Village. Richard was at the start of his extraordinary career as an alcoholic writer of 400 magazine features, 15 books and many short pieces. Richard died in 1970 at age 50. When Susan met my second father Lowell Bair in Paris 1953, my brother Rob threw his shoes out the window. Lowell married Susan anyway, despite the two young hellions attached to her, and before many years went by they had a daughter, my sister Connie.
Lowell translated over 300 French books including classic French novels like Liaisons Dangereuses, Candide, La Chartreuse de Parme, and Madame Bovary. A former hand-launched glider champion of Florida, Lowell taught me how to build the glider that disappeared into the clouds at a party in Mead's Meadow back in the Sixties. He translated his first book, a French detective thriller titled Canal Street to pay our passage back to the States.
My mother and my fathers taught me, by example, to love literature. I learned what little I know about good letters from reading nearly all of Ford Madox Ford, Joseph Conrad, Stendhal, Flaubert, Hemingway, Jane Austen, Virginia Woolf, Rebecca West, Marguerite Duras, Sybille Bedford , T.S. Eliot and Ezra Pound. I first read all The Cantos at age 16 with only Susan's penciled-in marginalia to help me sort out the many puzzles in the text. I speak French and Spanish, and know enough of the Koinae to parse the Gospels. That all came from Susan too.
She had a good knack for suggesting the right fun book that you might like to read. And then she'd let you read whatever you wanted to read, without interrupting you, no matter how thoroughly absorbed in the pleasure of the text you might appear to be. She worked at the Woodstock Library for many years with Ellin Roberts, D.J. Boggs, Pia Alexander and Joanne Sackett. Jane Dardis and Jane Axel and Miriam Sanders were good friends.
Anyone who would like to contribute a story to this blog -- about Susan or about Susan and Lowell should email it to me. My special thanks to anyone who has contributed already. Please pass the word along -- I'll print what you send me. I got that from Susan too, as well as Pound's notion that:
As a writer, nothing seems to me more important.
She was born Susan Wiman on August 25, 1925 in Seattle. Her great-aunt Gertrude Wiman helped chart the Straight of Juan de Fuca; and her grandfather Chaunce Wiman ferried Wobblies up to Vancouver during the “Steamboat Wars.” Her father, my Grandpa Fred, was a destroyer skipper in the Aleutians during World War II.
Susan’s wildly impulsive and often humorous intolerance of conventional restrictions, however, and also her love of literature, came from Mississippi. They came from my great-grandmother Pearl B. Winter and my great-aunt Maude Bryan. Nanny Pearl attended Agnes Scott College, then taught school in the Delta most of her life – until Mr. Winter forbade her attendance at a Women’s Suffrage meeting, whereupon she decamped for Seattle with her two children.
Susan matriculated at Radcliffe at age 16, but dropped out after the Coconut Grove Fire killed many of her friends. She went to New York to be an actress. There, after marrying a wildly improbable number of men attracted to her beautiful brunette good looks -- all the marriages were annulled by my grandmother Katie -- she met my first father, Richard Gehman, in Greenwich Village. Richard was at the start of his extraordinary career as an alcoholic writer of 400 magazine features, 15 books and many short pieces. Richard died in 1970 at age 50. When Susan met my second father Lowell Bair in Paris 1953, my brother Rob threw his shoes out the window. Lowell married Susan anyway, despite the two young hellions attached to her, and before many years went by they had a daughter, my sister Connie.
Lowell translated over 300 French books including classic French novels like Liaisons Dangereuses, Candide, La Chartreuse de Parme, and Madame Bovary. A former hand-launched glider champion of Florida, Lowell taught me how to build the glider that disappeared into the clouds at a party in Mead's Meadow back in the Sixties. He translated his first book, a French detective thriller titled Canal Street to pay our passage back to the States.
My mother and my fathers taught me, by example, to love literature. I learned what little I know about good letters from reading nearly all of Ford Madox Ford, Joseph Conrad, Stendhal, Flaubert, Hemingway, Jane Austen, Virginia Woolf, Rebecca West, Marguerite Duras, Sybille Bedford , T.S. Eliot and Ezra Pound. I first read all The Cantos at age 16 with only Susan's penciled-in marginalia to help me sort out the many puzzles in the text. I speak French and Spanish, and know enough of the Koinae to parse the Gospels. That all came from Susan too.
She had a good knack for suggesting the right fun book that you might like to read. And then she'd let you read whatever you wanted to read, without interrupting you, no matter how thoroughly absorbed in the pleasure of the text you might appear to be. She worked at the Woodstock Library for many years with Ellin Roberts, D.J. Boggs, Pia Alexander and Joanne Sackett. Jane Dardis and Jane Axel and Miriam Sanders were good friends.
Anyone who would like to contribute a story to this blog -- about Susan or about Susan and Lowell should email it to me. My special thanks to anyone who has contributed already. Please pass the word along -- I'll print what you send me. I got that from Susan too, as well as Pound's notion that:
“Art is more important than medicine –
because only Art reveals the soul of man”
As a writer, nothing seems to me more important.
-- Christian Gehman
Monday, April 12, 2010
From Susan's Grandson
When I asked my son, Francis Meriwether Gehman -- to maybe write something for this Susan Bair page, Francis said, "Dad, you mean, like maybe, something about the time Susan bit me when I wouldn't give her the remote?"
Susan would have been so proud to know that Francis graduated from San Francisco State University with a degree in studio sculpture on May 22, 2010. I think he will have been in college longer than the previous Woodstock record holder, whom I believe was Steve Gilligan.
Francis was Susan's first grandson. Susan and my sister Connie Bair attended my wedding to Fran's mother, the former Caroline Coles, in Keswick, Virginia.
After the wedding we all rode back to Cloverfields and whooped it up a bit while we waited for the two lambs roasting on a spit (provided by and presided over by my friend John Ruvalds, a physics professor at the University of Virginia) to finish cooking and then we danced and danced until we thought our hearts might break.
-- Christian Gehman
And Francis Gehman adds the following as his own post script:
For the record, it didn't hurt that badly when Susan bit me... but she
did have enough teeth left to make me drop the remote. She was annoyed
with my lack of attention span for TV programs which still annoys many
people who make the mistake of giving me the TV remote.
She always struck me as very beautiful even in her old age. I do remember swimming at a pool with her when I was about fourteen. She swam better than she walked at that point and looked perfectly at home sitting in the sun by the pool up on a hill. For that matter, she always seemed at home no matter where she was or what she was doing--perfectly calm and not about to let the absurd trivialities of life get in the way of her enjoyment of it. At least I thought she must be enjoying it because I always had a great time when I was with her, laughing at about every other sentence between stuffing my face on the strict diet of ice cream, pizza, and Chinese food she made me adhere to while at her house.
I still have a small green piece of glass that she convinced me was an emerald. It has made it through about four moves, flown across the country, and served as a guitar pick sometimes when I couldn't find one. It lives in a small clay pinch pot with some marbles for company.
I miss her all the time and frequently brag to people that I had a
grandmother who listened to Rage Against the Machine, smoked unfiltered
cigarettes, and shoplifted. I'm not sure if the shoplifting part is true
but I'm sure she'd approve of any stretch that makes this world more
colorful. -- Francis Gehman
Eine Kleine Nachtmusik: This Business of Withholding Cortisone
Many people don't know that Addison's Disease results when a person's body stops producing its own supply of Cortisone. For a patient with Addison's Disease, continuous administration of Cortisone is totally and absolutely necessary to sustain life, in the same way that breathing oxygen is absolutely necessary to sustain life.
Perhaps there are always questions, with any elderly person's death. But ... my opinion is that for any patient with Addison's Disease, and certainly for a debilitated, elderly woman with Addison's Disease who has just survived pneumonia with body temperatures of up to 105 degrees, the withdrawal (or non-administration) of Cortisone probably caused CERTAIN DEATH. It ensured that death would come SOON.
In Susan's case, my opinion is that the withdrawal (or non-administration) of Cortisone caused my mother to experience a three-day death agony whose extraordinary and unendurable pain was poorly controlled by morphine, and during which time of suffering any possible verbal protest from Susan was stifled by whacking big doses of Haldol, a potent anti-psychotic drug that makes talking or even thought more or less impossible. I have photographs that indicate Susan's death was very painful and agonizing.
My opinion is that withdrawing Cortisone from or not administering Cortisone to Susan resulted from a two part order by her attending physician, Dr. Rissman -- of Woodstock, New York. First, Dr. Rissman's order "nothing by mouth" mysteriously included not only food (which Susan might have choked on) but also Susan's usual and customary oral Cortisone tablets, and Second, no intravenous administration of Cortisone was ordered to replace the oral tablets. Meanwhile, however, as far as I know, Susan continued to receive intravenous fluids, oxygen and intravenous antibiotics. She continued to receive antibiotic therapy to combat pneumonia and MRSA, an iatrogenic infection she developed while dying in Benedictine Hospital.
On the morning that Susan's life-enabling and life-sustaining daily dosage of Cortisone was stopped -- this was the Cortisone on which Susan's life had absolutely depended for at least the previous ten years! -- Susan had actually managed to fight off the pneumonia, and her body temperature had returned to approximately normal. My opinion is that after her high fever abated, Susan was as coherent on that morning and on that afternoon as she had been at any time during the last three or four years.
My opinion is that withholding or withdrawing the administration of Cortisone caused Susan's Death, just as it would have caused the death of any patient with Addison's Disease (one of the "five fatal diseases" Susan was suffering from at the time of her death). To be quite clear, my opinion is that withholding or withdrawing Cortisone was the proximate cause, and perhaps even the main cause, of Susan's death. My opinion is that there is no telling how much longer she might have held on to life.
True, she might have died soon anyway. But witholding or withdrawing Cortisone made Susan's Death not only certain but also unnecessarily painful.
My brother Rob Gehman was the first to notice that Susan's Cortisone was no longer being administered intravenously. Rob was so shocked and surprised that, thinking there must be some mistake, Rob went out into the hall to call Lowell Bair at home.
Meanwhile, I went out to the nursing station to ask some questions. There, on the morning after the night on which Susan's customary dose of life-sustaining Cortisone was first withdrawn or not administered, my opinion is that I overheard one of Susan's nurses at Benedictine Hospital ask her Nursing Supervisor point blank "Could I be cited for malpractice as a result of withholding Cortisone from an Addison's Disease patient?" Significantly, the supervisor replied: "No, you'll be in the clear because you were only following Dr. Rissman's orders."
Strange enough, but I did not particularly remark on it at the time, except to note it down in my journal.
I believe that nurses and doctors may often make similar decisions to end the life of an elderly patient if the family agrees by withdrawing the customary and necessary dosage of a drug or drugs that have been necessary to sustain life.
But perhaps what makes it even stranger is that almost a month before I overheard this rather startling (to me, anyway) colloquy between Nurse and Supervisor, during Susan's first stay on the critical care ward at Benedictine, while sitting in the critical care ward's family lounge, I listened with amazement while -- this is my best recollection -- this same Dr. Rissman told the entire extended family of a middle-aged diabetic from somewhere up past "Onteora" that the poor soul, despite being hooked up to the full gamut of the critical care ward's usual superb modern monitoring equipment, had somehow "gone twenty minutes without a heartbeat" before anyone noticed that there might be something amiss. And as a consequence the pour soul was brain dead and could not be expected to survive the afternoon.
Because the critical care ward's modern monitoring equipment tracks (as far as I know) heart rate, pulse Ox, respiration, blood pressure and perhaps other vital signs that I know nothing about and as far as I know sounds an audible alarm when a life-threatening situation SUCH AS NO HEARTBEAT develops, it is fair to wonder: what could possibly have happened to that poor soul?
My opinion is that it does seem almost unbelievably strange (does it not?) that no nurse, doctor or supervisor noticed -- until too late -- that the patient's heart had stopped! For twenty minutes! With no response from Benedictine's wonderfully professional critical care nursing staff!
My opinion is that it may be fair to wonder: Was there perhaps a doctor in that poor soul's room? Which might have prevented the nursing staff from making further inquiry?
How could this have happened, Doctor?
But I suppose -- in my opinion it is natural to think -- that these two cases might more likely be the rule than the exception -- with some doctors. Anyone who doubts that this could even possibly ever happen at Benedictine Hospital in Kingston, New York, might do well to read Sybille Bedford's interesting book The Best We Can Do: (The Trial of Dr Adams), published in 1958.
Dr. Rissman was Susan's doctor for, as far as I know, for more than ten years. In my opinion, it is reasonable to assume that Dr. Rissman actually did know that withdrawing or withholding Cortisone would probably, perhaps almost certainly cause Susan's Death in short order.
I also noticed that the attitude of the nurse attending Susan on the night before she died changed; she had been friendly and retreated into a distant professional attitude that I found a bit strange until Rob noticed that the administration of Cortisone had been withdrawn. My opinion is that I remember that on the night before the administration of my mother's Cortisone was withdrawn, her daughter Connie Bair, after visiting Susan at her bedside, said as she left the hospital: "It's time for this to end" or "It's time for this to be over."
You may not like to believe, as I do, my opinion that it would have been much kinder and more merciful -- and also, in my opinion, much quicker and less painful -- to smother Susan to death with a pillow. Though that would have been over in five minutes, of course that would have been considered "killing." Or to use the precisely right term, murder.
But ... such "mercy killings" happen all the time.
My opinion is that Susan's husband, Lowell Bair, must have made this decision, probably in consultation with my half-sister Connie Bair.
You may not agree with my opinion, that withholding Cortisone from or not administering Cortisone to an elderly woman with Addison's Disease is tantamount to killing her outright.
My opinion is that perhaps this was not murder -- perhaps it was just "mercy killing." Probably my mother Susan Bair would have died before long anyway. But who's to say? In fact she died shortly after the intravenous administration of Cortisone was stopped.
My further opinion is that:
Anyone who has a similar story regarding the death of a loved one, or who has questions about any doctor similar to those I still have about Dr. Rissman and his role in my mother's death would be very welcome to contact me.
Now it seems that noticing the above and sending copies of it by email to my sister and my brother have caused Lowell Bair to disinherit me; under the terms of the Will that Susan signed I would receive one fifth of the joint estate. But I believe my siblings Rob Gehman and Connie Bair Thompson and Lowell are looting the estate. Which in my opinion would make them all "murdering thieves."
Perhaps there are always questions, with any elderly person's death. But ... my opinion is that for any patient with Addison's Disease, and certainly for a debilitated, elderly woman with Addison's Disease who has just survived pneumonia with body temperatures of up to 105 degrees, the withdrawal (or non-administration) of Cortisone probably caused CERTAIN DEATH. It ensured that death would come SOON.
In Susan's case, my opinion is that the withdrawal (or non-administration) of Cortisone caused my mother to experience a three-day death agony whose extraordinary and unendurable pain was poorly controlled by morphine, and during which time of suffering any possible verbal protest from Susan was stifled by whacking big doses of Haldol, a potent anti-psychotic drug that makes talking or even thought more or less impossible. I have photographs that indicate Susan's death was very painful and agonizing.
My opinion is that withdrawing Cortisone from or not administering Cortisone to Susan resulted from a two part order by her attending physician, Dr. Rissman -- of Woodstock, New York. First, Dr. Rissman's order "nothing by mouth" mysteriously included not only food (which Susan might have choked on) but also Susan's usual and customary oral Cortisone tablets, and Second, no intravenous administration of Cortisone was ordered to replace the oral tablets. Meanwhile, however, as far as I know, Susan continued to receive intravenous fluids, oxygen and intravenous antibiotics. She continued to receive antibiotic therapy to combat pneumonia and MRSA, an iatrogenic infection she developed while dying in Benedictine Hospital.
On the morning that Susan's life-enabling and life-sustaining daily dosage of Cortisone was stopped -- this was the Cortisone on which Susan's life had absolutely depended for at least the previous ten years! -- Susan had actually managed to fight off the pneumonia, and her body temperature had returned to approximately normal. My opinion is that after her high fever abated, Susan was as coherent on that morning and on that afternoon as she had been at any time during the last three or four years.
My opinion is that withholding or withdrawing the administration of Cortisone caused Susan's Death, just as it would have caused the death of any patient with Addison's Disease (one of the "five fatal diseases" Susan was suffering from at the time of her death). To be quite clear, my opinion is that withholding or withdrawing Cortisone was the proximate cause, and perhaps even the main cause, of Susan's death. My opinion is that there is no telling how much longer she might have held on to life.
True, she might have died soon anyway. But witholding or withdrawing Cortisone made Susan's Death not only certain but also unnecessarily painful.
My brother Rob Gehman was the first to notice that Susan's Cortisone was no longer being administered intravenously. Rob was so shocked and surprised that, thinking there must be some mistake, Rob went out into the hall to call Lowell Bair at home.
Meanwhile, I went out to the nursing station to ask some questions. There, on the morning after the night on which Susan's customary dose of life-sustaining Cortisone was first withdrawn or not administered, my opinion is that I overheard one of Susan's nurses at Benedictine Hospital ask her Nursing Supervisor point blank "Could I be cited for malpractice as a result of withholding Cortisone from an Addison's Disease patient?" Significantly, the supervisor replied: "No, you'll be in the clear because you were only following Dr. Rissman's orders."
Strange enough, but I did not particularly remark on it at the time, except to note it down in my journal.
I believe that nurses and doctors may often make similar decisions to end the life of an elderly patient if the family agrees by withdrawing the customary and necessary dosage of a drug or drugs that have been necessary to sustain life.
But perhaps what makes it even stranger is that almost a month before I overheard this rather startling (to me, anyway) colloquy between Nurse and Supervisor, during Susan's first stay on the critical care ward at Benedictine, while sitting in the critical care ward's family lounge, I listened with amazement while -- this is my best recollection -- this same Dr. Rissman told the entire extended family of a middle-aged diabetic from somewhere up past "Onteora" that the poor soul, despite being hooked up to the full gamut of the critical care ward's usual superb modern monitoring equipment, had somehow "gone twenty minutes without a heartbeat" before anyone noticed that there might be something amiss. And as a consequence the pour soul was brain dead and could not be expected to survive the afternoon.
Because the critical care ward's modern monitoring equipment tracks (as far as I know) heart rate, pulse Ox, respiration, blood pressure and perhaps other vital signs that I know nothing about and as far as I know sounds an audible alarm when a life-threatening situation SUCH AS NO HEARTBEAT develops, it is fair to wonder: what could possibly have happened to that poor soul?
My opinion is that it does seem almost unbelievably strange (does it not?) that no nurse, doctor or supervisor noticed -- until too late -- that the patient's heart had stopped! For twenty minutes! With no response from Benedictine's wonderfully professional critical care nursing staff!
My opinion is that it may be fair to wonder: Was there perhaps a doctor in that poor soul's room? Which might have prevented the nursing staff from making further inquiry?
How could this have happened, Doctor?
But I suppose -- in my opinion it is natural to think -- that these two cases might more likely be the rule than the exception -- with some doctors. Anyone who doubts that this could even possibly ever happen at Benedictine Hospital in Kingston, New York, might do well to read Sybille Bedford's interesting book The Best We Can Do: (The Trial of Dr Adams), published in 1958.
Dr. Rissman was Susan's doctor for, as far as I know, for more than ten years. In my opinion, it is reasonable to assume that Dr. Rissman actually did know that withdrawing or withholding Cortisone would probably, perhaps almost certainly cause Susan's Death in short order.
I also noticed that the attitude of the nurse attending Susan on the night before she died changed; she had been friendly and retreated into a distant professional attitude that I found a bit strange until Rob noticed that the administration of Cortisone had been withdrawn. My opinion is that I remember that on the night before the administration of my mother's Cortisone was withdrawn, her daughter Connie Bair, after visiting Susan at her bedside, said as she left the hospital: "It's time for this to end" or "It's time for this to be over."
You may not like to believe, as I do, my opinion that it would have been much kinder and more merciful -- and also, in my opinion, much quicker and less painful -- to smother Susan to death with a pillow. Though that would have been over in five minutes, of course that would have been considered "killing." Or to use the precisely right term, murder.
But ... such "mercy killings" happen all the time.
My opinion is that Susan's husband, Lowell Bair, must have made this decision, probably in consultation with my half-sister Connie Bair.
You may not agree with my opinion, that withholding Cortisone from or not administering Cortisone to an elderly woman with Addison's Disease is tantamount to killing her outright.
My opinion is that perhaps this was not murder -- perhaps it was just "mercy killing." Probably my mother Susan Bair would have died before long anyway. But who's to say? In fact she died shortly after the intravenous administration of Cortisone was stopped.
My further opinion is that:
Anyone who has a similar story regarding the death of a loved one, or who has questions about any doctor similar to those I still have about Dr. Rissman and his role in my mother's death would be very welcome to contact me.
Now it seems that noticing the above and sending copies of it by email to my sister and my brother have caused Lowell Bair to disinherit me; under the terms of the Will that Susan signed I would receive one fifth of the joint estate. But I believe my siblings Rob Gehman and Connie Bair Thompson and Lowell are looting the estate. Which in my opinion would make them all "murdering thieves."
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Wild Strawberries!
For Susan Bair
Susan had a good and generous heart. When she herself was not well, and physically suffering, she helped to serve meals to homeless people in Kingston.Susan would, as they say, "give you the shirt off her back." And, speaking of her shirt, and her other clothes as well -- what a sense of style she had! She dressed with simple elegance. When she would go to the grocery store, she would look like a tall, handsome model that just needed to pop in and pick up something after a photo shoot!
Susan's sense of style extended to her surroundings. She could bring home found furniture, add some Library Fair offerings, and with these make a really groovy-looking room!
Susan worked in the Woodstock Library for many, many years. For a short time I worked there near her. Libraries can be a haven for people who are socially fragile and sometimes difficult to get along with. Where some of the staff lost patience with these people, Susan never did. She ws completely non-judgmental and embraced everyone as her equal. She was especially fond of, and uncritical of, our free-spirited, noisy little Woodstock child library users!
I believe she got along so well with children, because she herself never lost touch with her own inner child.
She loved to be a bit outrageous and enjoy the effect on others. I remember when she and Lowell lived on the mountain, and Susan and I were chatting int he yard -- susan sitting on a stump. I realized that several hundred newly-hatched spiderlings were attempting to cross over Susan's sandaled foot. "Susan!" I shouted, "lots of spiders are climbing over your foot!" She stared me down steely-eyed, and said, "So? I like spiders!"
Susan would swoop down the mountain in her yellow Jeep, pick me up, and show me Woodstock's magical places: hidden ponds, waterfalls, and where the wild strawberries grew in such profusion amidst silvery lichens on sun-exposed rocks at the old Gilmore property -- a person could pick jars and jars of them -- enough to make jam or even pies!
Susan was so bright, and so knowledgeable regarding music, art, politics, history and religion. For many years she worked on a special project of cataloguing all the music books and holdings for the Woodstock Library.
Susan was always very strong, athletic, and a terrific swimmer. She was always seeking out exciting new places to swim around Woodstock. One of her more unique concepts was to obtain a fishing license for the Ashokan Reservoir, park, go down to a secluded cove, disrobe and jump right in! And so she did!
Susan had a wonderful sense of humor. If you were to tell her you were agitated, or feeling blue, before you knew it she'd have you laughing at the absurdity of the situation, and you'd be feeling very much better. What a gift she gave! I will miss her forever.
-- Miriam Sanders
February 2010
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