The Incredible Alice Twombly

                                                          

                 

A Teaneck Reunion

Teaneck, 2018

Dear Alice, 

      Can you believe it's been almost 6 decades since our paths crossed in Madison, Wisconsin? We were so young, thirsting for knowledge, eager, idealistic, innocent. The anti-Vietnam War teach-ins and protests, Civil Rights marches, Beatlemania swept the UW campus and touched us all. I was a grad student in the History Department and you were a teacher. I left with a degree and you left a legacy for the students you taught, with many of whom you're still in touch. How fortunate they are! 

Our dreams were still in the bud when we left Madison, but you blossomed ever after through hard times and good times. A master teacher and poet, you've touched so many lives. You have a wonderful family, great sisters, two wonderful sons, beautiful grandkids. 

You make literature and poetry come alive. I think of all the poets you've introduced me to, like the war poet Brian Turner and your sister Veranda, and those poetry readings you have on Thursdays, which I was blessed to have attended on a memorable visit to Englewood a few years ago. I treasure our visits together, here and there. I treasure our intellectual musings and our rants. You are my brilliant, beautiful soulmate, Alice, a treasure of the heart. Love you forever, Fran  

Some Memories:

We re-unioned in Union, NJ after many years on our different paths, when I was visiting Ukrainian friends, 2016 I think. You drove from Teaneck, and got in a traffic jam on the way home. You remembered your dad's business and your family. You knew the streets. We could see the new World Trade Center across the river. We picked up where we had left off, and I felt a sense of peace and joy. I knew we would meet again. 

On a visit to your home in Teaneck, NJ, in 2018, you took me on a tour of the ancient Palisades. We went to a poetry reading by Don Zirilli at the Classic Quiche Cafe, reading from "Heaven's Not for You."  You started this poetry series with your friend Zev many years ago and it's still going strong. We shared dinner together at an Indian restaurant before the readings. We spent an evening at a Shabbat service and dinner at the home of friends. 

We marched in Leonia for women's rights and against the unfit White House occupant, where I met some remarkable resisters, like Anne and Joe Cassidy. Remember? We sang "This Land is Your Land!" 1960s redux. We wove in and around Dutch Colonial brick homes, so full of stories, down Main Streets and side streets. You  reminded me of  NJ American Colonial and Revolutionary War history, with a stop at the Historic New Bridge Landing where George Washington retreated across the Hackensack River with his ragtag Continental army after a great loss at Fort Lee. It moved Patrick Henry to write those famous words, you reminded me: "These are the times that try men's souls."  Applies today, I thought, but kept silent. I was seeing NJ through the eyes of a native daughter. Unforgettable. As was our visit to Brooklyn where I met an old family friend, Jon Kay, and we had dinner with your son Jonathan, his lovely wife Kaori, and their two daughters. 

I hope you remember your visits to Sylvania, touring Main Street America, as fondly as I do. We walked the town, visited the Sylvania Historical Village, went to the Toledo Museum of Art (they had a Greek vases exhibit), shared wine at  Element 112. You were on your way to Madison. A year or so later you visited again. You shared time with my daughters and my friends and we went to the University of Toledo campus to watch the solar eclipse.  That was thrilling. 

Then there was our last visit, which I still feel bad about. November 2019. I had just returned from Morocco about a week before a long planned  to NYC with friends. I got to your house from the Port Authority bus station with the worst cold and cough, a precursor of the coronavirus, I swear. You kindly took me in anyway, and sadly, I left you with the damn cold, which went on for weeks.  Even so we shared some good times, meals at nearby restaurants, long talks. You were waiting for a new sofa. Little did we know then that we would be plagued with the coronavirus and COVID 19 in a few months. It's changed lots of things. Don't know about travel, lots of uncertainties. But your friendship will always remain a constant, Alice, and for that I am grateful. 

At the Toledo Museum of Art for the "Berlin Painter" exhibit

In Brooklyn, a historic tour with old family friend Jon Kay,
and a dinner with Alice's son Jonathan and family.