Kenyon College - CASE

“I See You. I See You.”
Returning for her twenty-fifth reunion in 2010, Susan Hillenbrand Avallon ’85
found herself thinking about what is lost and what endures
Not too long after I graduated from Kenyon—it
was probably at my fifth reunion—I spent some
time talking to a graduate who must have been in
his seventies. He told me that no matter how many
years have passed, the moment you step on the
Hill, it feels like home, like you’re twenty-one again.
I remember being really comforted by this thought.
That was not my experience, though, on
coming back to Gambier for my twenty-fifth
reunion. At first it was discombobulating—hard
to connect to the student I had once been. I felt
a little like Billy Pilgrim in Slaughterhouse-Five:
“unstuck in time.” I have lived in Southern
California for twenty-three years, and the greenness,
the humidity, the elegant old buildings,
the endless walking—all of this felt like another
planet. Did I ever really live here and feel at home
here? Was I ever as young as the current students
I saw walking around the campus?
I brought my eleven-year-old twins with me
on this trip, partly because I didn’t have anyone to
leave them with, partly because I promised them,
when their father died suddenly two years ago,
that we would stick together. I also wanted to get
them excited about college.
As we walked around campus, I told them
the best thing about Kenyon was its enduring
attitude that learning is deeply valuable in and
of itself, aside from considerations about what
you’ll actually do with your education. I told them
about what another Kenyon graduate, the writer
P.F. Kluge ’64, once wrote—that Kenyon was “the
last place I truly believed the work I did would be
fairly judged and measured. It was the last place
in which good talk, wherever I could find it, was
the making of my day.”
And I had lots of good talk with my dear old
friends. Everybody looked older; everybody looked
the same; everybody looked great. We didn’t talk
about careers. We talked about our memories,
our feelings for the place, and our feelings for
each other. I found myself constantly saying to
everyone, “You look wonderful,” but I think what I
really meant was, “I see you. I see you. I see you.”
I was so moved to see everyone, I kept staring.
I kept wanting to mark every moment and keep it
in my mind forever.
I’ve had a series of big losses in my life during
the last few years, and part of what made this
trip so emotional was that it brought back that
poignant old loss—the ending of my sweet college
years. We had a great turnout for the reunion,
nearly 50 percent of our class, and though I was
happy about that, I knew this was almost certainly
the last time so many of us would be together.
Sarah Corvene and I talked about the very
strange experience we had shortly after graduation,
when we went off to Mount Vernon in my
car for some kind of meal or errand. When we
came back, we found that, shockingly quickly,
nearly everyone was gone. The roller-coaster
of our feelings of accomplishment and joy and
community at our graduation, followed by the
sense of sudden emptiness on campus, of a future
that stretched out so uncertainly: twenty-five
years later, those sensations were still vivid.
One of life’s hardest lessons is that all our
experiences and all our relationships, no matter
how precious, are temporary. I am still trying to
develop some grace in having to live with that
reality. I’m also thinking about classmates I loved
who are gone now, who didn’t get a chance to
come see the place again that weekend. But I am
also thinking about something Viktor Frankl said,
which gave me a lot of comfort after Tony died:
“Having been is the surest form of being.”
College was too short, but I’m glad it happened.
Reunion was too short, but I’m glad it happened.
I’m learning to be grateful for every blessing in
my life, for however long it lasts. You, my Kenyon
friends: I know what we have all been to each
other, and I know what kind of influence many
of you still have on me and on my life. I want you
to know how grateful I am that you were there to
share that remarkable time and place with me.
Share your story!
Visit the Kenyon Stories Initiative, at kenyonstories.
blogspot.com, to share your stories about life at
Kenyon or to read recollections from fellow alumni.
save the date
Regional Association
Gatherings
February 29: Los Angeles, featuring
Provost Nayef Samhat
March 8: St. Louis, featuring
Professor of Drama Jon Tazewell ’84
March 14: Boston, featuring Provost
Nayef Samhat
March 22: Indianapolis
April 10: Minneapolis, featuring
Professor of History Jeff Bowman
April 16: Seattle, featuring
Professor of Humanities Tim Shutt
April 18: San Francisco, featuring
Natalie Marsh, director of Kenyon’s
Graham Gund Gallery
Reunions
April 25-27: Post 50th Reunion,
with the classes of 1937, ’38, and ’39;
1947, ’48, and ’49; and 1957 and ’58.
May 27-29: Reunion Weekend
Football Homecoming
Football alumni gathered in Gambier during Homecoming 2011 to
enjoy the big game, reminisce, and see old friends. With the generous
leadership and support of David Rose ’81, a first annual gathering was
held with over forty alumni in attendance—including Rodney Boren
from the Class of 1938.
As the program welcomes a new coach, Chris Monfiletto, for the
next season, football alumni have been assisting the Admissions Office
with finding capable new student athletes for the upcoming academic
year. If you know of a student athlete who would do well at Kenyon,
please contact Noble Jones ’97, associate director of admissions, at
740-427-5788 or jonesbn@kenyon.edu. Thank you, football alumni,
for supporting your alma mater!
Winter 2012 Kenyon college alumni bulletin 59