In Minnesota   The week before last, I flew in to Minnesota for the first time in over a year. But this time, it felt strange. Minnesota had been Beverly’s turf, New York had been my turf, but Beverly lived longer in New York than she had in Minnesota, so it definitely became "our turf".

Now in 42 years, we must have gone to Minnesota -- what, 30 times? more? We've gone by car, by train, by plane. As familiar as I am with the Twin Cities and the friends and relatives living there, since I never actually lived there, it seemed still to be "Bev's turf". And this was my first arrival on Bev's turf without Bev.

We had stayed at the Sofitel once before. It has a huge interior atrium as a lobby. The people there bent over backwards to be nice. I was given a rather large, comfortable room overlooking the atrium. Only on checking out did I find out what they had given me was a special room they seem to call the Minneapolis Room.

The personnel arranging the reception did everything they could to help. When I was trying to set up the seating at the four tables, they not only printed out the list of who was at each table, they put it in a frame at the door for guests to see. They xeroxed items free of charge that I wanted to distribute (the Memoir and "Words for Beverly"). On leaving Friday I needed to mail a package, and the manager took care of it at no expense to me. I had credit cards but no checkbook with me, and they gave me a cash advance of several hundred dollars so I could pay the cash fees for the church before I left.

Tuesday, November 9, was Bev's mother's 90th birthday, and we celebrated in the afternoon and I took four of us out to dinner.

Memorial Service   The church (where we had been married) has a good layout for this sort of thing. You enter at the end of a long lobby, where I had set up the guest book and photographs. The church itself is on the left, and seems about equal in size to the lobby; it runs the length of it, and you enter crosswise. In other words, the church is much wider than it is deep. On the other side of the lobby is the social hall, where we had coffee and bars (brownies and such) afterward. Beyond the 36 guests I had invited for the evening there were perhaps 20 others.

I had asked the minister to keep the ceremonies brief ("less is more"), and he complied. Early on, I went up and spoke for maybe 8-10 minutes. It was pretty much off the cuff, but was an abridged version of what I said in A Memoir, followed by Words for Beverly, the German texts plus the other verse. Of course, for that I had distributed the texts in advance, with English translations. For the cover of the church bulletin I had chosen, not surprisingly, a sea scene. I thought the talk went well, and it seemed to be well received.

Later on, as the minister was saying nice things about Beverly, he showed me he knew how to get on my good side, and I thanked him afterward for it. He worked into his talk on Beverly's teaching and communication in general the fact that one of Martin Luther's great contributions was to translate the bible from Latin into the language of the common people, specifically in his case into German. As he said that, I broke out into the broadest smile imaginable. It was so broad, I'm sure even the people sitting behind me could see it.

Whither Thou Goest   When the minister had asked about a hymn, it was a no-brainer, since I had a "language" connection. A favorite in Bev's family is "How Great Thou Art", but it does have a Swedish version (could it have been originally Swedish?) "O Store Gud", so I could see more significance there for the occasion.

Beyond that, I knew exactly what I wanted, but the story turned out more interesting than I had imagined. Since Bev's middle name is Ruth, and biblical Ruth travelled to her husband's family, at our wedding we had "Whither thou goest" sung. When I asked the minister for that, he said he'd see what he could do. That confused me; why wouldn't he be able to find a hymn? But the organist had come across an instrumental version and played it on the piano, for which I thanked her later, since I found it significant. Yet why the trouble in finding it?

Well, after 42 years, I found out online when I got home that it isn't a hymn, although it is based on a biblical verse. It turns out that Whither Thou Goest is a folk song from 1954 popularized by Les Paul and Mary Ford. I was delighted to find that out, since I've always been very much into folk music.

We had heard the words sung at our wedding; at the Memorial it was just instrumental, so not everyone might have gotten all the significance:

It had meant for us at the wedding that Bev was leaving Minnesota. The archaic words show a certain charm of language. Considering all the travelling we did together, it could have been our themesong. I see a significance in the third line, where my family attended to Bev in the hospitals and nursing home, and now, I was attending to "thy people" in the Memorial Reception that evening.

Memorial Reception   The dinner for the Memorial Reception was a great success, and from what I heard, I think those that attended agreed. A very good buffet was set up on one side of the Fontainebleau Room, where we had a private waiter and waitress. On tables on the other side were our flowers from the church, pictures, desserts, and a self-serve wine bar. I wore my tux and rarely let go of my glass of champagne. [Note: See picture on Home Page of website.] I made some remarks early on, and then circulated between the four tables. I was so glad to get e-mail addresses from so many friends and family I hadn't had them for. I think everyone had a good time, and I insisted that everyone take flowers home from our floral displays.

Memorial Gifts   Greatly appreciated are the memorial gifts that have been sent in Beverly’s name to the Merchant House Museum in New York, to the University of Minnesota German Department, and to Oak Grove Church. Beverly always enjoyed going with me to the Merchants House for social events that took place in the old historic kitchen of the town house from 1832, where she had her usual cozy corner to sit in in the wheelchair. There was also what I called “Beverly’s entrance”, below the stoop where people would help me get her chair down a few steps to enter via the lower level.

Contacts   In recent weeks I've received many phone calls, e-mails, notes, and cards, and they continue to come in. They reflect the breadth of our interests and friendships nationally and internationally, but, as I like to think, also reflect the extent of "Bev's Fan Club". All are of course appreciated, but I'd like to comment on just a few.

Helga Reiss said she’d be performing the next night in Montréal and would dedicate a song to Beverly.

Immediately upon notification, Jürgen in Germany very thoughtfully sent me a list of appropriate verses in German, which I’ve developed into the Words for Beverly.

Ruth wrote about Bev's " 'sparkle' and friendliness". I liked that phrase so well, especially "sparkle", that I quoted it in the Consignment to the Sea, as did the minister in his words about Beverly at the Memorial Service in Minnesota.

Sharon reflected on knowning Bev since the sixth grade.

Marlene reflected on playing jacks with Bev as children. Actually, at one point in the 1970's, Bev and I went out and bought a set of jacks, and we sat on the living room floor while she showed me how it was played.

I received comforting words in Spanish from Soranyi in the Dominican Republic.

I got a card in German from Gerda in northern Germany. She and Bev had been pen pals since their teenage years. Gerda reflected on some knicknacks on the shelf across the room that Bev had sent years ago. We've all kept up over the years.

I got a phone call in German from Ingbert in southern Germany. As a teenager he was an exchange student in Minnesota, and Bev (and I) kept up with him ever since.

We met periodically with Gerda and her husband and Ingbert and his wife in Germany. In 2000, on our first trip back to Europe in a decade, they were all kind enough to travel to Berlin for a reunion. Actually, they had never met each other before, but all six of us got on well.

[Actually, Ingbert was an early boyfriend of Bev's. There was also a Dan, and a Norayan (from India). I apparently was # 4, but that's the relationship that "took".]

I heard from Jan in Alaska. She and her husband are great sailors, and have crossed great swaths of the Pacific in their boat, as well as sailing elsewhere extensively. She was one of Bev's college friends, and she reflected on those years, as well as on Bev's and my visit to them in Anchorage in 1970. She concluded with this surprising bit of information.

“A few years ago, I wrote a novel entitled "Oil and Ice". Your names were given to a sailing couple crossing the Gulf of Alaska who rescue the heroine from the sea. Bev has long blonde hair and your hair is graying at the temples and you save this woman's life. If I get it published, I'll send you a copy.”

Well, Jan got it mostly right. They are a sailing couple in the one sense, out on great swashbuckling adventures on their own boat. Bev and I are also a sailing couple, but I'm afraid of a somewhat different style. Our "boats" are a bit larger, and involve keeping one hand firmly wrapped around a glass of champagne.

I would like to comment on three notes from Beverly’s professional colleagues. I knew them all, but one expects to hear from contemporaries, and hearing from people out of our past is a surprise.

Bev taught in two schools in Westchester County, north of New York City. I heard from the Singletons who both taught with her in Pelham High School in Pelham. They were from so far in the past that it was a shock. I remember we had invited them to the very first dinner party for Pelham friends we ever had, over forty years ago when we lived in our first apartment in the North Bronx.

I also never realized the degree of respect people had for Bev, as in two other letters. I heard from Joe D. who had practice taught in the Pelham Language Department, and eventually got a position there. He wrote "She was a very important person in my life and I always looked up to her."

At Fox Lane High School in Bedford there were lots of students of hers I got to know, largely because of German club parties at students' homes. I remember Bev talking about Adam, a student of German who, again, eventually came back to work in the Fox Lane Language Department. I also clearly remembered that he hosted at his home Bev's retirement party in 1991. I should add that Bev was particularly well known among her colleagues for two things: anyone who wanted to know how the tax system worked, or social security, or investments, went to Bev. Also, anyone who wanted to know how the Teachers' Association functioned, what the New York State retirement rules were, and so on, also went to see you-know-who.

Here is most of the letter from Adam.

"I just learned from ... that Bev passed away on October 9th of this year. He also told me of the Pick's Disease from which she had been suffering for so long. I want to take this opportunity to express my sympathy to you for your loss.

"Bev was a wonderful teacher, colleague and friend. She was my German teacher from 1978-1980 when I was a student at Fox Lane High School. I was then fortunate enough to secure employment there and work with her in the FLHS Foreign Language Department for two years before Bev's retirement. Perhaps you recall that I hosted her departmental retirement party at my home in Ossining.

"I remember Bev for her dedication to language learning and the stories she used to tell me about her summers at Middlebury College, completing her doctorate, as well as her many trips around the USA, eventually seeing every state in the union. I also remember that she was the one in the department whom everyone asked when there was a contractual issue. You will be happy to know that I picked up where she left off. I am now very active in the Bedford Teachers’ Association.

"I will never forget Bev DiNapoli. She was one of a kind."

A Word from Beverly   I looked at the opening page of Beverly Johnson's first travel diary. I should have known that even now, she's got me beat for precision.

I knew we had sailed on the last day of September, 1961, and estimated that Bev had arrived from Minnesota to our house in Hollis, Queens, on "around the 25th". Why didn't I check her diary? She arrived on the 27th, thank you very much. So now I know it exactly: from September 27, 1961 to October 6, 2004 when I said goodbye to go to the DR three days before she passed away, we were together without a break for 43 years and 10 days.

I've been writing, now I'll let Bev write. Her first entry in the travel journal, in its entirety, covers the three days before we sailed. I'll comment afterwards.

Date: September 27-28-29 [1961]
Place: New York
Weather: Wonderful

I left home at noon and arrived in New York in the evening.

The next day Vince and I went into Manhattan--walked around Rockefeller Center and Times Square, visited Marge Baucom at the Met. Museum and went to "Aunt Mary's" for dinner. Rita came over in the evening.

On Friday we visited the Cathedral of St. John the Devine. We took the Staten Island Ferry at sunset and came back to see the illuminated skyline. We had dinner in Chinatown with chopsticks. We ended the evening at Joe King's Ratskeller. On the way home I had to walk barefoot to the subway since I couldn't get my shoes back on my swollen, blistered feet!

These are the first three days of the 43 years and 10 days. So I now know she was here Wednesday-Thursday-Friday and we sailed on a Saturday. I remember meeting her friend from Minnesota at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I do not remember visiting my Aunt Mary (in quotes, since she wasn't family yet) nor Rita visiting. Ever the German scholar, Bev spells it Ratskeller, the German way, even though English uses the older German spelling Rathskeller. Joe King's Rathskeller was a wonderful college-type place I would go to for years with friends, sitting at large, wooden tables, on Third Avenue at 17th Street in Manhattan. They had a piano player who played, all night long, every song you've every heard of, with everybody singing along, drinking from steins a brand of beer no one’s ever heard of called Sunshine beer. When I drove by in recent years it had become a TGI Friday's. Sic transit gloria mundi.

Bev, a fashionable young lady of 24, had worn shoes with heels that were just a bit too high for all the running around we were doing. I remember her not being able to put them on again and not only walking barefoot to the subway, but also on the subway (and bus) all the way back home to Queens. Well, if Neil Simon could write "Barefoot in the Park", I suppose Bev should have written "Barefoot on the Subway".