Fall 2005 PDF - Milton Academy

He changed his mind, though,soon mouthing that insidiousclaim that slavery served blackAmericans better than freedomever could. Brazilian CandidoGomez, the son of a slave andher master, endured a rather differentjourney, one with a tragicending. As Adam tells the story,Gomez’s father put him on aship bound for Guinea as a punishmentfor drunkenness.Privateers captured the ship,however, and Gomez was soldillegally in Louisiana. Gomeztried suing for his freedom, and,it comes as no surprise, failed.Slave Country is full of such stories,so even as Adam makesarguments about economicforces and political deal-making,he returns regularly to the livedexperience of the people who bychoice or by coercion shaped theDeep South.Academic historians heapedpraise on Adam for his finescholarship. By writing withpower and precision, however,Adam has made this distressingAmerican story accessible to anyengaged reader. That may be hisgreatest triumph.David Ball ’88Academic DeanSee You After theDuration: The Storyof British Evacueesto North America inWorld War IIMichael Henderson ’49Michael Henderson’s See YouAfter the Duration (Publish-America 2004) explores whyBritish parents risked sendingtheir children to safety over submarine-infestedwaters. Howwould American and Canadianfamilies and public respond tothem? What adventures wouldthe children experience andwhat would be the long-termeffects? Michael tells a tale thatis at times moving, often humorous,evoking an authentic pictureof life and attitudes 60years ago. It is a saga of separation,a story of unashamed patriotismand a contribution to theliterature of World War II.The book’s forward is by SirMartin Gilbert, who wroteChurchill’s biography. On thepublisher’s Web site, he writes,“For those who were not part ofthe saga Michael Henderson sobrilliantly recounts, there will bemyriad surprises, affectionatevignettes, warm tributes, amidthe difficulties and uncertaintiesof exile. [Michael writes] a vividportrait of the events, moods andatmosphere of a fast-moving,fearful and inspiring era.”“Those of my generation, borntowards the end of the war, areoften haunted by the thoughtof what might have happenedhad we been just a little older,”Sir Christopher Meyer, BritishAmbassador to the U.S.1997–2003 writes, “MichaelHenderson tells us in a fascinatingnarrative, filled with adventure,drama and sadness of childrentaken from their parents toa foreign land for their ownsafety.” Michael Henderson wasamong the children sent overseasduring the war. His temporarydestination and home:Milton Academy.Play Ball(et): A Life inSport and DanceR.L.F. Robinson ’48In Play Ball(et), Ralf Robinsonwrites of 50 years’ playing baseball—atHarvard, in the Navyand for the semipro team, theBelfast Merchants—and dancingprofessionally in New York, Niceand elsewhere With his wife,Swiss ballerina Jeanne-MarieAubert, Ralf formed the now 28-year-old Robinson Ballet, a professionalcompany in northernMaine. In his introduction, Ralfwrites, “Anecdotes, drawn fromover 50 years of baseball and ballet,will be on our menu. Nophilosophical or arty courses willbe served, only a stew, lightlyseasoned, with the whimsy ofeveryday professional life.”After training in New York, Ralfwent to Chicago with theChicago Ballet Opera, There, hetook classes with the formidableMiss Edna McRae. In one essay,he compares McRae to the cannonin Lord Tennyson’s “TheCharge of the Light Brigade.” Herecounts performing on the EdSullivan show. After Chicago,Ralf went to Paris to look forwork as a dancer. There, hisMilton Academy and Harvardfriend, Charlie Cabot, shows upunexpectedly and Ralf enjoys amoment as an Ivy Leaguer out todinner before returning to gruelinginstruction from a newteacher, affectionately known as“The Hatchett Lady.” Later, heand Jeanne-Marie teach inBoston—at the time when theBoston Strangler is on the loose.“Nervously, we felt that doingthe wash in the cellar laundrywas a two-man job,” he writes.In 12 essays, Ralf paints poignantcharacters from memory.Remarkably, even the friends,dancers, lovers and baseballplayers who make only cameoappearances in these tales, do sobelievably—and humorously.59 Milton Magazine