After a brief lapse of 45 years, Harry Baya, Ken MacArtney and Sondra MacArney (nee Shultze) spent some time together. As expected, none of us had changed in the slightest. Well..., maybe a little.
We spent a delightful evening in Larchmont, NY,at the home of the son of Ken and Sondy (as she is now called). Ken's three granchildren, Allison (I'm guessing at the spelling), Jessica and Keith had dinner with us. The children were polite and delightful... so maybe the universe will survive after all.
I would like to write more, but want to get this up today and have to be off soon. We had a great time discussing our many memories of Caracas and our friends there. Sondy was only in Colegio Americano for her senior year, 54-55, but had been in Caracas off and on for years and had attended Campo Alegre. I borrowed her Campo Alegre yearbook and Ken's 1954 Collegio Americano yearbook. Ken borrowed my 1955 yearbook; his had been stolen in an airport in South America several years ago. (Guard those books! They are apparentyly worth a fortune on the black market down there).
Teachers, romances, lunch at the little store at the foot of the stairs (Ken remembered the name of the man who ran it, Leon?),locations (Mi Vaca Y Yo, Gallipan, Tamanaco, Maracay, the front porch at the house where Madge and I lived in El Rosal), and individuals (Alan Ward, Joe Wolfe, The Eskinazis, Pete Cole, Fred Hill, Ruth Iber, Mary Rose Mason.... and on and on, inspired by the yearbooks, and memories) were discussed.
Ken and I agreed (Sondy was supervising the grandchildren, I think) that our experience in Carcas was probably the happiest of our lives, that we lived in a rare and wonderful place and time those years.
Thus begins the current renaisance of those of us who were in Caracas in the 50's. May there be more!
Harry Baya 6/13/2000