N O V E M B E R 2 0 0 2 Alumni News
News Associates: Emily Richards, MA '97, Jeanne Johnson
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Mike May, SAIS '79
When they took the bandage off his eye, Mike May remembers
experiencing "a big wash of light." And then there was a
most peculiar sensation. "I could see stuff," recalls May,
SAIS '79, who had been blind since a chemical accident
damaged both his eyes at age 3. But seeing is not
necessarily understanding, as May was quick to discover.
After 43 years of blindness, his brain was not wired to
accept, process, and understand visual information. "I had
to ask for an explanation of what I was seeing. I had to
have help figuring out, OK, that's the shape of a
person."
In the decades after being blinded, May learned to navigate
the world by relying on his other senses, a challenge he
met with considerable success. A one-time political analyst
for the CIA, he subsequently embarked upon a successful
career as an entrepreneur in Oregon and Silicon Valley.
Currently, at age 48, he is president and CEO of the Davis,
California-based Sendero Group LLC, which makes a personal
navigation system for the blind. The product uses Global
Positioning System technology to deliver useful location
information (such as the nearest restaurant or pharmacy) to
a wireless hand-held device that delivers the information
by Braille or voice.
When not working, May is an avid sportsman and a leading
promoter of sporting activities for the blind. He holds
gold and bronze medals for Alpine skiing for the blind. In
Sarajevo in 1984 he became the first blind person ever to
ski a demonstration run at the Winter Olympics and
currently holds the world speed record for downhill skiing
by a blind person, following a guide down expert slopes at
65 miles an hour. Off the slopes, he is an accomplished
public speaker who has been commended at White House
ceremonies on three separate occasions.
By nature adventurous, Mike May approached the eye surgery
that restored his vision in March of 2000 in much the same
spirit. "No one knew what to expect," he says of the
two-part procedure, which was initially developed in Japan.
During the first operation in November of 1999, surgeons at
St. Mary's Hospital in San Francisco implanted adult stem
cells obtained from a donor eye into May's right eye. (The
left was too badly damaged to repair.) The stem cells
regenerated damaged tissue in the eye, enabling surgeons to
conduct a corneal transplant four months later. While this
procedure had been successful for others, none of the
previous patients had been blind for most of their lives
and May's doctors couldn't tell him how much vision -- if
any -- he'd regain.
It's uncertain whether his vision will improve with time.
"I'm now low vision -- very low vision," says May, "and
many people would think in this situation that their world
was coming to an end. But you have to remember I'm
approaching this from a different place." It is, he says,
an amazing thing to see the different shades of color in
his sons' eyes, to watch dust particles dance in a sunbeam,
to see a butterfly in flight. "Some things are 100 percent
visual, and I find them fascinating," he says. "Butterflies
float around like bits of paper in the breeze. It's just
amazing to watch." -- Mike Field
White House Honors for
Henderson
The nation's highest civilian honor -- The Presidential
Medal of Freedom -- was awarded in July to D.A. Henderson,
SPH '60, former dean of the
Bloomberg School of Public
Health.
Before coming to Hopkins, Henderson led the worldwide
campaign to eradicate smallpox, and successfully
implemented a World Health Organization (WHO) vaccination
program that immunized 80 percent of the world's children
against six major diseases.
Henderson received the National Medal of Science in 1986,
and in 2000 he was elected an Honorary Fellow of the New
York Academy of Medicine. In all, 13 universities have
conferred honorary degrees and 14 countries have honored
him with awards and decorations. -- JJ
Last Winter, Maja Wessels, SAIS '82, was elected chair of
the European Union Committee, a Belgian non-profit
organization that represents the business interests of over
140 European companies of American parentage. As chair,
Wessels is in effect the chief, non-governmental lobbyist
for U.S. business concerns in Europe -- concerns that
support over 3 million jobs with a total investment of some
570 billion U.S. dollars. In remarks to the American
Chamber of Commerce in Bulgaria, Wessels said, "Given that
the U.S. and the EU are the twin engines of the global
economy, anything which strengthens the EU economy is good
for the U.S. economy."
Toying Around With the Icons of Pop
Culture
"I have a soft spot in my heart for Scooby," says Donald
Kurz, A&S '77, about the crime-solving dog marketed by his
company in conjunction with the classic television show and
release of the Scooby Doo movie. "I also really love The
Simpsons because they're creative and smart -- and Bart has
always been a big seller for us."
Kurz is chairman and CEO of Equity Marketing, a global
integrated marketing firm that licenses, develops,
advertises, and markets promotions for Fortune 1000
companies with entertainment tie-ins. Equity's promotions
include fast food children's toys, retail toys, and
figurines of sports stars or other celebrities. Most are
based on fictional characters or movies, such as the
glowing, battery-powered Lord of the Rings goblets
produced as a Burger King promotion, or toys based on
Shrek or The Lion King.
A former Hopkins
lacrosse player, Kurz was
sidelined by a knee injury in his junior year, and made
dancing part of his recovery. He was spotted by some
representatives of the Arthur Murray dance studios in a
nightclub and recruited to teach dancing, including "the
Hustle," at the height of the disco craze. "I had fun, made
good money, and it was a great way to meet women," he
recalls. -- Jeanne Johnson
Jason "Crazy Legs" Conti, A&S '93
Crazy Legs" Conti can eat. A lot. In fact, his amateur
oyster-eating exploits earned him such repute that he was
actually recruited to join the International Federation of
Competition Eating (IFOCE).
It was while watching the Superbowl at a New Orleans sports
bar that he downed 34 dozen (that's 408) oysters,
surpassing the previous record of 33 dozen oysters consumed
by a single customer in a single sitting -- a feat that
launched his professional eating career.
So what is it that separates everyday eaters from the pros?
"You're eligible to compete for some of the top belts in
the sport," says Conti.
One of the most famous annual competitive-eating events is
Nathan's Famous Fourth of July World Hot Dog Eating
Championship in Coney Island. During a weigh-in for the
event, Conti met Mike Bloomberg, Eng '64, the mayor of New
York and former chairman of the Hopkins board of trustees.
Conti had better luck with pancakes. Earlier this year in
Anchorage, Alaska, at the Hibernation Cup, he won the
Lumberjack Breakfast event by eating 3.25 pounds of
pancakes in 10 minutes. (The Hibernation Cup will be aired
on the Discovery Channel in April as part of Gut Busters
II.) He followed that up last April by winning the
World Oyster Eating Championship held in New Orleans, where
he ate 14 dozen of the slimy mollusks in 10 minutes.
Some might consider the "sport" to be nothing more than
"speed gluttony" -- both wasteful and silly. Conti
responds: "Competitive eating is raising the worldwide
consciousness on the importance of food, and there's
certainly not a lot of waste because very rarely, if ever,
are there leftovers." The IFOCE's web page touts the
pastime as being "among the most diverse, dynamic, and
demanding sports in history," dating back to the earliest
days of mankind. "If you have 30 hungry Neanderthals in a
cave and a rabbit walks in, that is a competitive eating
situation."
At 6 feet 3 inches and just 200 pounds, Conti is one of
what he calls the "new breed" of lean and mean competitive
eaters. He prepares for competition by fasting, and
recovers by "having a beer and looking for the groupies."
Outside the eating business, the 31-year-old is a
struggling screenwriter who pays his way by washing windows
and modeling for art classes at Manhattan's Art Institute
of Technology. -- Emily Richards
The action in the cool state of Alaska isn't as hot as that
portrayed on the TV series CSI, where complex cases are
solved in less than an hour and investigators seem to be
experts in everything, no matter how arcane. But crime
scene technician Kerrie Cathcart, Engr '97, does find her
job fascinating. Of CSI, she says, "We don't carry
weapons or interview suspects, but we do use some of the
same techniques and technology."
Cathcart specializes in latent fingerprints, meaning she
uses alternate light sources with different filters and
fluorescent dye to reveal latent fingerprints, lifts the
fingerprints using powders, and compares them with those of
known offenders stored in a computer database. She works
with a forensic team to scour a crime scene, take photos,
sketch the scene, gather evidence, and reconstruct the
crime.
Cathcart works out of Anchorage, but her job often takes
her to remote Alaskan villages. During her last homicide
investigation she encountered severe Arctic weather that
included 20-degree below temperatures and 40 mph winds. "In
Alaska, you really have to be prepared for anything," she
says. -- JJ
Book Review: Turning Gray Into
Green
What U.S. city boasts the largest city park? In his quest
to answer this simple question, Peter Harnik, A&S '70,
embarked on a two-year research project. The result: an
engrossing and comprehensive book that is a must for those
who consider green space essential to quality of life.
Inside City Parks is the first-ever narrative and
statistical look at the park systems of the 25 largest
cities in the country. In addition to providing facts and
figures, Harnik looks at the history, politics, and people
behind parks and recreation, as well as how each park
contributes to its city's character. He shows that city
parks don't just happen. Making pleasant green spaces arise
out of the congested byproducts of urban life usually
requires a concerted and sustained effort on the part of
those who envision, design, maintain, and pay for parks. He
cites America's standard-bearer for parks -- New York's
Central Park -- as a prime example.
"Although millions of parents have said to millions of
children, 'This is what New York looked like before all the
buildings were there,' Central Park (840 acres) is, in
fact, almost as artificial as Disneyland," he notes in the
book. "[Designers] Olmsted and Vaux employed 20,000
laborers, engineers, stonecutters, and gardeners to move
three million cubic yards of dirt, plant 270,000 trees and
shrubs, and dig six lakes." Likewise, Golden Gate Park
(1,017 acres) in San Francisco was built on sand dunes only
after enough clay, loam, and manure were hauled in to
provide a two-and-a-half-foot covering for landscaping.
Rating the "biggest" of anything can involve tricky
criteria, but Harnik did eventually discover the answer to
his initial question. At 24,000 acres, Franklin Mountain
State Park in El Paso can stake its claim as the largest
city park in the United States. It is, after all, in Texas.
-- JJ
History-major-turned-chef Robert James Dunn, A&S '96,
accepted the position of executive chef at the Belmont
Conference Center, outside of Washington D.C., two years
ago. He plans the menus and prepares the food for groups
ranging from 10 people to 500 -- from small business
dinners to formal weddings to National Security picnics.
Dunn's culinary career began at a crab house outside of
Baltimore. "I showed up the first day and shucked a
200-pound bag of clams," he remembers. From there, he moved
to Baltimore's tony Polo Grill, near the Homewood campus,
then gained a reputation as an up-and-comer during his
tenure as chef at Pisces.
Although he doesn't often use cookbooks, Dunn does have a
favorite: "Fanny Farmer. It's full of tried and true
recipes. I also like flipping through a magazine. You look
for major ingredients and then run with it your own way."
-- ER
Split: Stories From a Generation Raised on
Divorce, edited by Ava Chin, A&S '01 (MA), Contemporary
Books (2002)
Charles Clarvit, A&S '78 & Ron
Nordmann, A&S '63
Discussing current events with a cadre of intelligent,
quick-witted people from throughout the world, late into
the night. Exchanging jokes with 24 frat buddies. Playing
lacrosse. Challenging himself to succeed because he's held
to the highest standards. These are the memories that come
to mind when Charles Clarvit (pictured at
right) thinks about Hopkins.
These days, you're likely to find Clarvit discussing
business with a client, traveling with his family, or
coaching his son's lacrosse team. As much as he enjoys his
life now, he's quick to admit that he misses those late
night discussions and the camaraderie of the Hopkins
experience. "Those were very defining years that taught me
how to compete at a very high level and contributed to my
success," says Clarvit. "Hopkins also opened up my mind to
the world."
But Clarvit hasn't entirely left Hopkins behind. "After my
parents, Hopkins is the second most important influence in
my life," he says. "Just as a parent wants to provide for a
child and a child will do anything to give back to a
parent, I want to give back to Hopkins."
Clarvit is now a principal with Quellos, a money management
investment firm that handles billions of dollars in assets.
He's also the campaign co-chair for the
Krieger School of Arts and Sciences, sharing the role
with Ron Nordmann, A&S '63.
During last spring's May 4 campaign kick-off, Clarvit asked
those in attendance at the Krieger School luncheon to close
their eyes and take an imaginary campus tour. "Walk onto
campus from University Parkway," he told listeners. "Walk
on the brick paths past the athletic fields É past the new
recreation center and student arts center," he said,
leading his listeners on a journey that illustrated how the
campus has been enriched by improvements that often result
from private philanthropy.
"It's clear to me that Hopkins has taken a step up in a
dramatic way," he says.
The Krieger School's top campaign priorities are faculty
support, scholarships, and The Humanities Initiative --
aimed at strengthening Hopkins' distinctive programs and
renovating Gilman Hall. "Gilman is the heart and soul of
campus," Clarvit says. "It's the building that most
represents Hopkins, and next to the library, it's where
those of us in arts and sciences spent most of our time."
Clarvit counts the enhancement of Gilman as a critical
priority, especially for the humanities departments that
will benefit from renewed collegiality and accessibility.
Scholarships, he observes, "equalize opportunity" and help
attract brilliant people of all economic backgrounds.
Clarvit has committed $1 million to support the humanities
and Gilman Hall renovation, as well as the new Center for
Financial Economics.
As a person who deals with money on a daily basis, Clarvit
has developed a personal financial philosophy that embraces
philanthropy. "It's my philosophy that after you provide
for yourself and your family, you need to give, both while
you're alive and after you're gone," he says. "After all,
isn't that the kind of legacy that really counts?"
When Ron Nordmann (pictured at right)
helped his daughter, Jodi, move
into her Hopkins dorm room freshman year, he ran into
pediatric surgeon Michael Ratner, A&S '64, who had been his
roommate 30 years earlier. Ratner introduced his son, a
sophomore. "I have to admit I had a tear in my eye," says
Nordmann. "It was a very moving moment for me."
Such passage-of-time moments often cause people to reflect
upon the decisions they've made. Both father and daughter
agree that the decision to attend Hopkins was a great one.
"I hope it's the start of a long family tradition," says
the elder Nordmann.
"A friend of mine at Hopkins introduced me to my wife of 36
years, and my daughter and I have both made wonderful,
lifelong friends at Hopkins. Also, I benefited from a
quality education that expanded my mind and goals. I didn't
realize it at the time," says Nordmann, "but those were
years of great growth that really helped me get out of the
starting gate during the tentative early years of my
career."
A financial analyst and portfolio manager specializing in
the pharmaceutical industry, Nordmann retired in 1999 from
Deerfield Management, a New York investment firm. Jodi
Nordmann is a clinical psychologist in Downers Grove,
Illinois.
A desire to make the Hopkins experience available to others
is what motivated Nordmann in 1999 to endow $1 million for
undergraduate scholarships. Each year, the Ronald M.
Nordmann '63 and Jodi E. Nordmann '93 Undergraduate
Scholarship Fund in the Krieger School of Arts and Sciences
makes a Hopkins education available to students who
otherwise would not be able to afford to study here.
Recently elected to the University's Board of Trustees, he
agreed to co-chair Hopkins'
Knowledge for the World
campaign in the Krieger School.
"One of the goals of the campaign is to refurbish and
enhance Gilman Hall, and it's long overdue," says Nordmann.
"When my daughter took me on a campus tour in 1993 I was
struck by the many positive changes and beauty of campus,
but Gilman Hall looked much the same as when I was a
student."
During his career, Nordmann has interviewed many graduates
from some of the best universities in the world. "All of
them are bright and intelligent, but Hopkins students seem
to be at a higher level in terms of their ability to write
and communicate," he says. "Maybe it's the breadth of the
coursework, the close interaction with faculty, and the
flexibility of being at a comparatively small institution.
Whatever the reasons, Hopkins is clearly one of the great
universities in the world." -- JJ
Preserving and enhancing the Hutzler Reading Room and
integrating this historic space with faculty and teaching
spaces.
Creating new seminar rooms and enhancing existing ones in
order to involve more students in Hopkins' distinctive
method of seminar instruction.
Installing the archaeological collection -- one of Hopkins'
treasures -- in a proper museum space.
Transforming the dark, inner core of the building into a
bright, fluid space connecting levels -- and hence, people
and ideas.
Reclaiming much-needed academic space by relocating
non-academic services to other buildings.
Memories: Saying Good-bye to
Brooks
A parent spends the better part of his lifetime bringing up
his child to be a confident, self-sufficient adult. Why is
it then so hard to let go when a child makes his first move
out of the nest?
In September, my son Brooks, the youngest of my three
children, began his freshman year at Hopkins. On arrival
day, we inched our way in the endless line of cars that
formed all the way from University Parkway to the unloading
zone in front of the freshman dorms. I felt even more
anticipation than my son. The chaos of moving him into his
room, together with the familiarity of the place, gave me a
glimpse of life's treasured moments.
The next hours were filled with unpacking, decorating,
searching for additional extension cords, and having a
sandwich at a familiar spot on St. Paul Street. Then it was
time to part ways with Brooks, at least until the morning
when I would return for our real goodbye before my
eight-hour drive back to Rhode Island. He headed back to
Gildersleeve dorm and I wandered off to get reacquainted
with "my" old campus.
Behind Gilman, the road swings around to the President's
House, and from that vantage point, one can see the
distinctive bay windows of the Hutzler Reading Room. How
many hours did I spend there trying to stay awake with
endless pages to read? I pictured my son struggling with
the same books. As I took the turn toward the Johns Hopkins
Club, I remembered fondly a dinner there nearly 30 years
ago with my former advisor and mentor, Dr. John Walton. He
had invited me to the club for a wonderful evening that
remains a highlight of my memory of that great man. Few
could match his wonderful charm and wit. He even came to my
wedding in Washington and gave me an art book that I still
cherish.
Continuing on my tour, from a distance I could see San
Martin Drive, the winding, tree-lined road on the western
side of the campus where vestiges of the stately trees I
remembered now mingle with new architecture, all framed by
a fire-red sunset that evening. I strolled up to the new
O'Connor Recreation Center recently added to the Newton
White Athletic Center and marveled at the variety of
facilities my son would have at his access. A passing
moment of envy, but I fought it off. I wandered by Homewood
Field, the shrine to Hopkins' lacrosse dynasty. Now walking
by that field, I could almost hear the crowds of those
great lacrosse games over the years and Gebby's band still
playing.
I headed out of the campus gates straight across University
Parkway to my hotel room at the Colonnade. I knew tomorrow
would be tough.
Sunday brought heavy rain that seemed to match my mood that
morning. I checked out of the hotel, got the car out of the
garage, and joined Brooks for some pizza. As I looked
across the table at this new college freshman, images of
his childhood swept over me. The tree house, his first
bicycle, Little League, the annual first-day-of-school
photograph all rushed through my mind as random memories. I
was fighting back this overwhelming urge to get up and hug
him, but I knew he might wonder what had gotten into his
father. So we talked about his first days and whom he had
met. A young man and his mother came over to our table and
Brooks introduced him to me: a friend by name already; that
was a good sign.
Lunch ended, and I reluctantly admitted that I should get
started on the long drive home. We walked out to the car
parked behind the snack bar, and with that hug I had wanted
to give him a few moments earlier, I found that I could not
let go. Neither could he. Words were not easy, but they
came out as I hoped they would: use your head, always take
the high road, and most of all, I love you. He smiled, and
I knew everything would be all right. I got in the car, we
waved, and I was off, my job complete. -- Jeffrey L.
Gordon, A&S '73
United States
Baltimore Chapter
Sunday, November 3: Travel Program Féte. Learn
about
upcoming trips to exotic places, visit traveling faculty,
and reunite with fellow travelers
Wednesday, November 13: Centre Club Luncheon with
Guy McKhann, M.D.
Monday, November 18: The Art of Joseph Sheppard
Friday, December 13: Dinner & Peabody Orchestra
performance
Cleveland Chapter
Florida Chapter
Massachusetts Chapter
New York Metro Chapter
Philadelphia Chapter
Pittsburgh Chapter
Rochester Chapter
San Diego Chapter
San Francisco Chapter
Washington D.C. Chapter
Tuesday, December 10: Dinner and Lecture: "Who Needs
Civility?" with Professor P.M. Forni (pictured at right),
founder of The Johns
Hopkins Civility Project and author of the book Choosing
Civility: The 25 Rules of Considerate Conduct
London
Saturday, December 7: World premiere of Sophie's
Choice, the opera, with reception to follow
Geneva
Thursday, December 5: "The Power of Partnership"
lecture
Then & Now:
Peabody archivist Elizabeth Schaaf remembers when
Peabody students
with neat handwriting could pay their way through school by
copying composers' sloppy or hard-to-read music notation
into something legible and tidy. "Just because you're a
brilliant composer," Schaaf points out, "it doesn't
necessarily follow that you produce gorgeous
manuscripts."
Today's music notation software, with titles like Finale
and Sibelius, takes a copyist's place. The computer
programs, which become more sophisticated every few months,
can translate a touch of the keyboard (electronic music
keyboards and computer keyboards alike) into typeset
quality scores. "Notation software has enabled many
composers to become their own publishers, with just a
printer and a computer," says McGregor Boyle, composer and
professor of
computer music at Peabody.
Despite the advantages, not all Peabody composers feel a
need to use the software, and Peabody students, including
the 35 composition majors, are still encouraged to learn
the traditional method of music notation.
Sirota, who happens to be blessed with a fine, quick hand,
hasn't wanted to take the considerable time required to
learn the software. But when he's completed a piece of
music (most recently for string quartet), he hires notators
to input his handwritten work into Finale, giving him a
score that can be saved on his computer, easily reproduced,
and more readily revised. Students with tidy handwriting
may no longer be in demand, but ones who know how to use
the software are. -- ER
A Wee Bit O' Fun for the
Kiddies
Ten of the 28 Hopkins travelers on this September's trip to
Ireland were children. The tour, sponsored by the Alumni
Office, was specially designed for families with children
and provided activities and tours of special interest to
lovers of folk tales, magic, and lore.
Another child-friendly trip is coming up on the Hopkins
travel roster next summer: Nottingham & York, a Family
Learning Adventure in England, July 26 to August 5, 2003.
All 21 of the 2003 Hopkins alumni trips are listed online
at
alumni.jhu.edu/travel.
Recognizes personal, professional, or humanitarian
achievement
Helene Gayle, SPH '81, an expert on infectious
diseases, for six years has directed the Centers for
Disease Control's primary center for AIDS, other STDs, and
tuberculosis prevention. Recently she was appointed senior
advisor for the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation, which has
committed more than $300 million for HIV/AIDS prevention
and treatment.
Recongizes outstanding service to Johns Hopkins
University
A. James Clark is chairman and CEO of Clark
Enterprises, the Bethesda, Maryland, parent company of the
Clark Construction Group, the nation's largest privately
held general building contractor. A Johns Hopkins trustee,
he generously funded the construction of Clark Hall at
Homewood, home of the new Whitaker Biomedical Engineering
Institute.
Alumni awards are presented to alumni and firends at events
throughout the year. Deadline for nominations: December
1. |
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