(Photos courtesy of Brian Burwell via Leslie Jenkins Conant.)
(Obituary courtesy of Claire Morey Taan.)
3 comments:
Anonymous
said...
I have some unknown tidbits about Cindy. Her middle name was Knowles, after her great-grandfather who was a silversmith in Providence RI. I just looked and his silver comes up on E-Bay. Another of her great-grandfathers was a member of Congress for 14 terms, and one of her grandfathers was a Rhodes Scholar, and a mathematician. He was the manager of a company that made wire recorders for audio.
I didn’t know Cindy very well in high school although she was in nearly every class I had. We became friends when we attended Berkeley. Nearly every Friday night or Saturday morning I would pick her up at the Berkeley co-op and drive her home for the weekend. On Sunday we would return.
During the drive back and forth we talked about all kinds of things, high school, college, friends, politics, food, aspirations, etc. On these drives I learned that she was not so “untouchable” as I had thought. More about that later. Beyond that we did not socialize much. While in Berkeley I discovered fondue and found a restaurant just north of campus that specialized in all kinds of fondue. It became one of my favorite restaurants. It was close to the co-op so I took Cindy there maybe half a dozen times.
At one point Cindy decided to leave the co-op and was in danger of not having a place to stay. My apartment had two bedrooms, one unused, so my roommate and I offered her the other room at no cost until she found a place. Cindy found another apartment and did not move in.
The last time I saw Cindy was at the end of our junior year. I had just dropped her off, she smiled, waved, and said she would see me in the fall. I think she said she was staying in Berkeley that summer but I really don’t remember. That was the last time I saw her.
I tried to locate her the next year but her mother said she did not have a phone number. The student address guide listed her at the co-op which she had left. When the 1997 reunion took place I heard a rumor that Cindy had died. Since I had met Cindy’s mom several times I called her and re-introduced myself. She remembered who I was and told me Cindy’s story.
Cindy graduated from Berkeley and was hired by Digital Equipment Corporation in sales. Cindy was very happy with her job and moved to Sausalito. At some point Cindy contracted brain cancer and did not recover. Cindy had a boyfriend and was planning to get married but they decided to wait. Cindy was cremated and her mother wanted to spread her ashes in Sausalito City Park down by the water. City ordinances prevented the spreading of ashes but the mayor approved a special permit to allow Cindy’s mom to place a plaque in the park as it was her favorite place. I visited the park 3-4 times looking for the plaque but never found it. I think Mark Lund went looking for it a few times as well.
I was surprised at how Cindy’s death affected me. Although we were not good friends she was one of those “untouchables” who for me defined the Piner years. She, along with her group of “untouchables” always seemed to join student government in some capacity every year, joined clubs and groups, and seemed to be involved in everything around the school. She was smart, cute, sophisticated, full of life, and hung out with the “in” crowd. I felt that Cindy and her “untouchables” were way out of reach for a farm boy like me so I kept my distance. On our drives to and from Berkeley I discovered that Cindy was a normal human being, funny, looking forward to life, struggling at times, but a very nice person and not the untouchable person I thought she was.
Like most, I didn't know that Cindy had passed until fairly recently. It brought back a memory, something that made me feel a little bit ashamed. If I recall, Cindy first showed up in our neck of the woods in 6th grade at Mark West Elementary. It was mid-year, and she was a bit shy and I'm sure trying her best to make friends and fit in, a difficult proposition at that time of life. At one point, the rumor mill (which consisted of my fellow recess-time softball mates, like Wes Thomas and others) had it that Cindy "liked" me. And I did catch her smiling at me once or twice in that certain way. Now, lord knows I was never popular enough to be able to snub anyone, but I admit I dismissed her apparent crush out of hand ... after all, she was a "new girl". How foolish that makes me look now, and how sad I am at her passing before fulfilling her life's dreams.
3 comments:
I have some unknown tidbits about Cindy. Her middle name was Knowles, after her great-grandfather who was a silversmith in Providence RI. I just looked and his silver comes up on E-Bay. Another of her great-grandfathers was a member of Congress for 14 terms, and one of her grandfathers was a Rhodes Scholar, and a mathematician. He was the manager of a company that made wire recorders for audio.
I didn’t know Cindy very well in high school although she was in nearly every class I had. We became friends when we attended Berkeley. Nearly every Friday night or Saturday morning I would pick her up at the Berkeley co-op and drive her home for the weekend. On Sunday we would return.
During the drive back and forth we talked about all kinds of things, high school, college, friends, politics, food, aspirations, etc. On these drives I learned that she was not so “untouchable” as I had thought. More about that later. Beyond that we did not socialize much. While in Berkeley I discovered fondue and found a restaurant just north of campus that specialized in all kinds of fondue. It became one of my favorite restaurants. It was close to the co-op so I took Cindy there maybe half a dozen times.
At one point Cindy decided to leave the co-op and was in danger of not having a place to stay. My apartment had two bedrooms, one unused, so my roommate and I offered her the other room at no cost until she found a place. Cindy found another apartment and did not move in.
The last time I saw Cindy was at the end of our junior year. I had just dropped her off, she smiled, waved, and said she would see me in the fall. I think she said she was staying in Berkeley that summer but I really don’t remember. That was the last time I saw her.
I tried to locate her the next year but her mother said she did not have a phone number. The student address guide listed her at the co-op which she had left. When the 1997 reunion took place I heard a rumor that Cindy had died. Since I had met Cindy’s mom several times I called her and re-introduced myself. She remembered who I was and told me Cindy’s story.
Cindy graduated from Berkeley and was hired by Digital Equipment Corporation in sales. Cindy was very happy with her job and moved to Sausalito. At some point Cindy contracted brain cancer and did not recover. Cindy had a boyfriend and was planning to get married but they decided to wait. Cindy was cremated and her mother wanted to spread her ashes in Sausalito City Park down by the water. City ordinances prevented the spreading of ashes but the mayor approved a special permit to allow Cindy’s mom to place a plaque in the park as it was her favorite place. I visited the park 3-4 times looking for the plaque but never found it. I think Mark Lund went looking for it a few times as well.
I was surprised at how Cindy’s death affected me. Although we were not good friends she was one of those “untouchables” who for me defined the Piner years. She, along with her group of “untouchables” always seemed to join student government in some capacity every year, joined clubs and groups, and seemed to be involved in everything around the school. She was smart, cute, sophisticated, full of life, and hung out with the “in” crowd. I felt that Cindy and her “untouchables” were way out of reach for a farm boy like me so I kept my distance. On our drives to and from Berkeley I discovered that Cindy was a normal human being, funny, looking forward to life, struggling at times, but a very nice person and not the untouchable person I thought she was.
Like most, I didn't know that Cindy had passed until fairly recently. It brought back a memory, something that made me feel a little bit ashamed. If I recall, Cindy first showed up in our neck of the woods in 6th grade at Mark West Elementary. It was mid-year, and she was a bit shy and I'm sure trying her best to make friends and fit in, a difficult proposition at that time of life. At one point, the rumor mill (which consisted of my fellow recess-time softball mates, like Wes Thomas and others) had it that Cindy "liked" me. And I did catch her smiling at me once or twice in that certain way. Now, lord knows I was never popular enough to be able to snub anyone, but I admit I dismissed her apparent crush out of hand ... after all, she was a "new girl". How foolish that makes me look now, and how sad I am at her passing before fulfilling her life's dreams.
Post a Comment
Due to excessive spam all comments are moderated and should receive approval within 24 hours. Thank you!