Well, our high temperature today is 91 degrees, but the calendar says it’s October so I have to believe it. Not that much has changed since I last talked to you a year ago. The pandemic is still affecting our decisions, politics are still polarized, and Paul Hollywood is still hot as a pistol. 

Of course, I realize that life has moved in new directions for many of you. We have a rich collection of class notes, complete with photos. I am continually amazed at the varied and exciting directions we have all moved through in the last 47 years. Lives filled with interesting experiences and challenges, and occasionally opportunities to connect with each other. 

I always go into a bit of mourning for the Midwest in October. Honestly it was my favorite month in Ohio. Even when I moved to Phoenix, for many years I made an annual trek back east to capture a week of autumn. I generally headed to New England where my family is. My Italian Nona who made guilt into an art form would not-so-gently remind me that I wouldn’t have her in my life forever and she wanted to see her oldest grandchild. (Of course, she started this routine in her early 70s and lived till 96, so I had many visits over the years). 

Over time I developed a wonderful plan for my fall vacations. The weekends were family time as I saw aunts, uncles and cousins. During the week, I would drive my rented car all over the New England states, hitting small towns and stopping at farm stands along the side roads. New Hampshire had an amazing Shaker village as well as the largest quilt shop in North America. Bennington, Vermont was home to a jewelry artist whose work I loved. I still wear several of the pieces I bought there. My favorite town was Brattleboro, Vermont, with seven bookstores and a wealth of galleries and shops. I loved the look of the mountains covered in autumn colors hanging above the streets of white wooden homes.  

I traveled alone. Years of traveling for business eliminated my discomfort with that, and I loved the freedom to make my own choices every day. When we were at Kenyon, one of my favorite books was written by a man who called himself “The Yankee Traveler.”  It was a collection of reviews and stories about New England Inns and Bed & Breakfast places. I became my own Yankee Traveler on those trips, choosing each stopping point based on info from that and similar books.  

My grandmother is gone and the pandemic pushed my travel plans down the road, but I still remember those trips at this time of year. I want to again hunt for the perfect cider donut. To pick out a handful of heirloom apples and a wedge of Vermont cheddar from the big wheels sitting on the counter, grab a box of Common Crackers and stop by the side of the road for an apple and cheese lunch. I miss the trees and the rich undergrowth of the East. And I miss Kenyon, where autumn was a continually bountiful experience of the beauty that blooms before winter. 

My sister’s oldest will be starting college next year. They are California kids and Dante is focusing on UCLA. He IS applying to Kenyon as well as a total of 10 schools, including Stamford. If he gets in there, the tuition is $70,000 a year, not including food and housing. Kenyon is more reasonable than that but still an economic burden for many. Parents and students have to measure the richness of the educational options against the richness of their purses when making their decisions. I know I’ve said this to you before, but even when accounting for inflation, our tuition was a bargain compared to now. 

Right now is the time to pay that forward. Kenyon continues to carefully expand its resources for students and adapt its campus to meet changing needs. It continues to build community with us and others. Their online programs such as the panel discussion they held on the Ukraine situation a number of months ago and the author readings help bring us into the learning that continues to go on there. I miss Kenyon most in the fall, but if I think about it, I could miss it every day. 

Our contributions are critical to Kenyon’s continued existence as a place where learning comes first. And we can help ensure that other entering students have the opportunity to choose Kenyon without economics interfering. Several new initiatives are designed to make just that possible. And at the same time, it gives our school the chance to keep Kenyon’s student base rich in intelligence, personality, and backgrounds. I hope you know that even a small amount, multiplied by all of us, can make a difference. And let’s start planning for 2025. Hard to believe that we’re looking at 50 years. 

I hope all of you who are heading toward the best of autumn in a place where autumn happens take the time to enjoy it. Those farm markets still abound, and let me tell you: heirloom apples are amazing! (As are cider donuts.)

Below are some wonderful tales and pictures from our classmates. Please enjoy them, as I did. And next time, think about sharing your story with us. Inquiring minds want to know. 

The best to all of you,
Maria Muto-Porter